Unexpected Love
by Lupus17
Summary: Joren didn't die. Instead, he lived through the Ordeal to become a knight. Now he's changed. When he unexpectedly meets up with an old enemy after the war, he is left confused and reeling. He finds himself feeling something for the lady knight. JK
1. Unexpected Meeting

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 1**

**Unexpected Meeting**

Joren was racing for his life. He and his patrol were trying to fight their way to the safety of a refugee camp that Joren knew was located just west of their line of patrol. The Scanrans had ambushed them. Pouring out of the nearby trees and surrounding woods, Joren's mounted patrol had been surprised in what they had thought was a safe area. He was angry with himself. Even though the war was over there were still pockets of enemy raiders. He _knew _you always had to stay alert, never let your guard down and keep in mind the danger that may be lurking, but somehow he had let himself get distracted. Guilt, an unfamiliar and new emotion, engulfed him as he thought about the eleven men he had already lost in their desperate attempt to escape the raiding Scanrans. Joren knew their only hope was safety behind the walls of a fort, but the closest thing was a refugee camp. He hoped it could defend itself against these merciless Scanrans because if not, all he was doing was bringing death and imminent destruction to a helpless group of untrained farmers. He knew this was possible, but he and his patrol's only chance lay in the nearby camp.

The bloodcurdling cries of the raiders followed Joren and his remaining men as they finally broke through the trees and into a large cleared area. At its center stood the refugee camp, only it didn't look like a refugee camp. It was large and fortified with thick walls and boulders pushed against the base of each wall face. Nets, reinforced with metal wire, were draped across the top, ready to be dropped on an unsuspecting enemy at a moment's notice. A large number of battered, Scanran shields covered the walls, giving it a fiercer look. A Tortallan flag was raised along with another unfamiliar flag, which represented the commander of the camp.

Just then a horn call trumpeted from the opposite side of the clearing and a Tortallan patrol of what Joren estimated to be about fifteen men charged toward the Scanrans that had broken through edge of the forest. With this addition to Joren's four men, the Tortallan force was just barely outnumbered by the enemy. Turning his powerful mount, Joren joined the fray, determined to wipe out the murdering Scanrans with the help of their new allies. The remainder of the 29th patrol loyally followed his example and they too turned and charged. With a clash of steel the two sides merged.

Joren was bent on revenge. The 29th patrol had been his responsibility. He was their leader and he had failed them. Regret and guilt warred inside him. A year ago, guilt had not existed for him. He had been a cruel, cold man who hadn't cared about who lived or died. His motivation had been to be the best, no matter what the cost. It hadn't mattered who he'd stepped on to get there just as long as his goal had been reached. A year ago, he had been a different man. That man had been an empty shell, meaningless and worthless. The thought of what he had been disgusted Joren. He knew he'd done things that were unforgivable and he knew he could never go back. He couldn't dwell on the past anymore, but he could control the future. His thoughts returned to the present. Instead of making up for past transgressions, he had now added to them. His dead comrades became another sin in his long list of faults. Joren blocked the guilt. He couldn't let it distract him from retribution. For now, all that mattered was justice.

Soon the tide of battle began to turn. The Scanrans were falling back. They were still fighting, but beginning to lose heart. At the sound of another horn call the gates of the refugee camp opened and another group of warriors raced toward the battle. At the sight of these new, fresh allies, the raiders retreated. They knew the fight was lost. Joren couldn't let them go. They had killed his men and it fell to him to honor the lives he had carelessly lost. The murderers couldn't go unpunished. With a cry of rage, Joren directed his steed toward the closest Scanran. Sometime during the battle the man's horse had been shot from underneath him. He was on foot and far behind his retreating friends. He was dressed in rags and furs and his disheveled appearance added to the desperate fear on his face. As he glanced behind him, he saw Joren closing on him and a cry of panic escaped the filthy raider. With cold accuracy Joren ran him through, cutting off the man's terrorized cry. Spurring his mount on he began to follow the retreating figures. Before he could intercept one, a mounted knight in full armor blocked him. The sudden obstacle forced him to pull the reins back hard to keep from running in to the other warrior's horse. Snarling with fury, Joren growled at the knight.

"What do think you're doing? You're letting those murdering Scanrans escape! Are you mad?"

The knight didn't move, but calmly replied. "Let them go. We've won the battle. Nothing can be gained—"

Joren was furious. Who did this knight think he was to order him about? Let them go? They were the enemy! He interrupted the knight's unhurried reply, "If you let them go, you're letting their savage ways go unpunished. They ambushed my patrol and slaughtered half of us before we had a chance to fight."

The knight seemed unruffled, his voiced stayed neutral and emotionless, "There's a difference between justice and revenge. They're retreating. We don't need to add to the bloodshed."

Incredulous, Joren stared at the knight. He couldn't believe the man was letting the remaining Scanrans to leave unimpeded. Realizing it was futile to argue with the unmovable knight, Joren shifted his mount around him. Before he could move forward, the knight blocked him again, forcing him to turn his mount aside.

Angrily, Joren confronted the knight again. "What's wrong with you? If you let them go, they'll just return later with reinforcements. Do you know nothing about the rules war? Mercy doesn't work with them, they just keep —"

The knight had removed his helmet. Only the 'he' was a 'she'. Calm hazel eyes studied him behind thick lashes. A light smattering of freckles were sprinkled on the small nose and her mouth was pressed in a determined line. Joren stared in horror as memories assailed him…

_Taunting a first year in the library, making him clean up an imaginary inkspill. The doors of the room opening to reveal a stubborn female page, ready to defend the hapless boy._

_Making a page retrieve a book from the library repeatedly, telling him he had grabbed the wrong one and each time telling him a different title. A determined girl following the page and confronting Joren on his dishonorable games. _

_Pushing an unfortunate page around between himself and his two friends, never letting him leave. A solemn girl intruding, protecting the boy and getting bruises in return._

Coming back to himself, Joren realized he had finally come face to face with his nemesis. Something had changed though; Joren no longer felt disgust and anger towards the knight. Instead the disgust was turned inward. Remembering what he done and how he had treated her throughout their page years made him feel sick. He knew he had made her life miserable back then, tormenting her and her friends, always thinking he had the right, only all along it had been just the opposite. That girl was now a knight, the same as before, only more defined in strength and honor.

Before Joren could say something…anything to express regret for his unforgivable actions of the past, he was rudely pushed aside by a score of warriors, ready to defend _her_…Keladry of Mindelan.


	2. A Strange, New Joren

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 2**

**A Strange, New Joren**

Kel hadn't been surprised in a long while, but she had to admit that this was something she hadn't seen coming. Silently, she berated herself for thinking that she wouldn't have to face him sooner or later, but for some unfathomable reason she had believed she could go through life without crossing paths with him ever again. Sighing inwardly, Kel decided that she should be happy that she had avoided him for this long. Something was bothering her though. When she had taken off her helmet revealing to Joren who she was, he had stopped mid sentence and his face had gone ghostly white. Instead of recovering from his surprise and planting a sneer on his face, he had instead stared in silence as something indefinable had passed fleetingly over his face. Kel thought it looked like regret, but that would be an impossibility coming from Joren. Dismissing her strange thoughts, Kel decided she had imagined whatever had been on his face. His long silence was just surprise and he hadn't yet recovered enough to make a nasty remark. Pushing through the large group of friends who had rushed to her 'rescue', Kel finally came face to face with Joren. Preparing herself for a long, miserable few days at New Hope, Kel greeted him in her blandest voice.

"Hello Joren." 

For a long time, Joren didn't reply. Kel was starting to think he never would, when quietly, coolly, he greeted her, "Mindelan...I didn't recognize you with the armor." His voiced stayed neutral and his face never changed. Color was slowly creeping back into his cheeks and his face looked the same as ever, perfect in an angelic way. His eyes were hooded, but she could still see that they were, as always, an icy blue. His hair, though disheveled was the same white blond. The one notable difference in his manner was his voice. Instead of sarcasm or sly remarks, his voice had matched her own, staying bland and vague.

Kel felt disbelief creep through her. She had braced herself for the hateful Joren, but instead gotten a polite Joren, without the usual distasteful, trademark nastiness. Thinking it over, Kel decided that he must have been trying to fool her with his former pretend game of 'Befriend the Lump'. Of course after he had earned her trust he would promptly stab her in the back. She knew that this must be his plan, but there was something markedly different about the game this time. The sly undertone to his words was absent.

Kel knew she must have been missing something, but she could detect no other ulterior motives to his words. Passing it off as poor judgment on her part, Kel instead decided that she'd better keep on her toes if she didn't want to get burned.

"Have you and your men checked out with the healer of our camp. Neal of Queenscove is in charge. I don't want to hear of any arguments between the two of you. When you're finished there, my boy Tobe will show you to my office where you can give me a full report. I'm commander of this camp, so I have to have a detailed report sent to my Lord Wyldon on this incident." Kel again tensely waited for Joren to voice his normal line concerning female commanders or his disgust with the Crown for letting a girl become a knight.

"Yes, Sir Keladry. I really don't need to go to the healers though, I only have a few scratches."

Kel found herself staring at him again. He didn't want to be healed? Before, as pages, he had always complained about his bruises, demanding to see a healer right away if, for some reason the process was delayed. He had always wanted to be attended immediately, avoiding pain as much as possible. Confused, Kel just shook her head.

"It doesn't matter if its only something little. The smallest scratch can get infected and turn into a major problem later. You can't afford to take that risk."

Joren lifted his head and met her eyes for the first time since she had taken her helm off. They were clear and filled with respect. "Of course. Thank you, sir" Before Kel could respond, Joren had turned his stallion toward New Hope and the four soldiers that had survived the attack on the 29th patrol followed him.

Turning to the rest of the men surrounding her, she addressed them, "You heard me with Joren, everyone has to see a healer. I don't want excuses." Kel turned to one of the of the residents who was known for his distaste of healers, "And Fenis, your deathly fear of Neal isn't a viable excuse." Laughter broke the tense silence and the group moved off toward the camp. Merric stayed back. He had been the one to lead the Tortallan patrol to Joren's rescue. He was sweaty from the fight, but looked like he possessed no wounds. Relief flowed through Kel. Even through she knew she couldn't protect her comrades and prevent them from doing their job, she still wished she didn't have to put them in danger.

"Merric, are you alright? No major wounds?"

Merric shook his head and replied in a dry voice, "No, Kel, I'm fine. You know you can't mother me all of the time. If you hadn't noticed, I too became a knight and I had to pass the same tests you did. I know you think I'm a defenseless little boy, but that boy you once knew grew up."

Kel smiled and laughed. "I'm not mothering you. I'm just being the concerned commander of New Hope. I can't have one of my best fighters dying on me, can I?"

Merric grinned, "So now I'm one of your best fighters?" Merric bowed mockingly from the saddle. "Thank you, Protector of the Small, for that grand compliment."

Kel leveled her gaze at him sternly, "Don't call me that name. It's a ridiculous title. Besides, you're starting to sound like Neal and his sarcastic tongue. Unless you want me to start calling you Meathead, I suggest you beg off."

Merric just smiled, "But it fits you so well…" Merric's smile faded, "That's not why I wanted to talk to you though. It's about our new tenant, Joren the Nasty. You need to watch your back. I don't know what game he's playing, but we both know we can't trust him. Joren will go out of his way to make your life miserable. He'll try to sabotage everything that's good at New Hope. I think we should keep a guard on him at all times. I can keep a rotating sentry that changes shifts every few hours. That way, we'll know what he's up to—"

Kel interrupted his reasoning, "No. I can't just guard him like a criminal. He hasn't done anything yet and—"

"That's just it though," Merric cried, "You know he will eventually. Why not prevent it from happening in the first place. It's the best solution!"

Kel rubbed her face wearily. "I can't do it Merric. It's against the rules of chivalry and honor. Until he's done something to merit my attention, I won't have him followed everywhere. That _will_ give him something to complain about. I won't discuss it further for now." Kel softened her tone, "Don't worry about me, Merric. You yourself just made the point that we're both knights. I know the score and can defend myself. I appreciate your concern, but for now it's unwarranted."

Throwing up his hands in defeat, Merric gave up. "All right. But this doesn't mean we won't be looking out for you. I, for one, plan to keep my eyes on him." Merric turned his bay gelding and set out for the gates of New Hope.

Kel stared at his retreating figure thoughtfully. Even though she knew he was right and that Joren was one to be watched carefully, something about her childhood enemy had changed. She couldn't quite put her finger on what yet, but she'd figure it out sooner or later.


	3. Monster?

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 3**

**Monster?**

Kel was the commander of New Hope. He hadn't known. If he had, he might have avoided the refugee camp altogether. No. It wouldn't have mattered who was commanding. As long as there had been a chance to save the lives of his men, nothing else would have been important. He had enough guilt weighing on him without adding the deaths of his whole patrol to his conscience. When he had seen Kel's all too familiar face, he had been shocked. All he could think was that he had finally, after all these years, met up with Mindelan again. Seeing her face had brought back all the guilt and shame from their page years. Now that he had been forced to face her, Joren realized this might be his only chance to redeem himself. He knew had to try, even if he had to sacrifice all his pride to do it. There was one flaw to his plan. Kel, along with the rest of her friends, didn't trust him. He could tell by their hostile faces and manner that they believed him to be the worst kind of criminal. They were right. It didn't matter that he had changed. His past mistakes couldn't be erased. He wouldn't be surprised if Kel threw him out to fend for himself after she had filed her report. Despite the overwhelming obstacles, he would apologize before he left New Hope. It was the least he could do. If she didn't accept it, at least he could say he tried. After that, he wouldn't bother her again. The important thing was to show her that he truly regretted the way he had treated her, even if she refused to believe it.

Entering the gates of New Hope, Joren was surprised to see how organized it was. 

Many refugees hurried about, greeting the returning fighters. Despite the crowded appearance, the camp was clean. Several buildings were spread throughout the compound. Each building had a wooden sign nailed near the door. He could see the infirmary, the stables and the mess hall. Towards the back he glimpsed the latrines and several housing buildings. Located in the center of the common area were the flags of New Hope. The first was the Tortallan flag, a silver blade and crown on a royal blue background. Taking a closer look at the second flag, he could make out a gray owl with cream glaives bordered in gold. He realized it must represent Mindelan's insignia. Seeing the flag there drove home the fact that Kel was indeed commander.

Taking a deep breath he dismounted from his horse. Before he could move any farther into the camp, a young boy of about ten years of age intercepted him. Grabbing his horse's reins, the boy introduced himself.

"I'm Tobe, my lady Keladry's boy. She told me I was to see to yer horse and show you to the healer's building." The boy's eyes were narrowed suspiciously and his voice, though polite had a hostile undertone. Before Joren could respond, Tobe warned him, "I've heard about you. If I see you try anything with my lady, you'll be sorry. We don't need the likes of you stirrin' up trouble around here. You'll have no friends ta help you in this place." Without waiting for a reply, Tobe started off, leaving Joren to follow or not.

Joren stared after the boy. Even the children knew how he had treated Kel. How had they found out so quickly? It didn't matter. He couldn't expect kindness or welcome words. His reputation had preceded him and it wasn't a false one. As hard as it was looking to be, Joren knew he had to earn their respect.

Following Tobe to the stables, Joren realized that many of the refugees were eying him with undisguised distrust. It looked like word had gotten around to the whole camp about his identity. He shouldn't have been surprised, but somehow he'd been hoping he'd have a little more time before being treated as the dishonest man he had been. Ignoring the numerous eyes following him, he concentrated on staying with Tobe. Soon they arrived at the stables where Tobe handed Joren's horse to another young, freckled boy. Turning back to Joren, Tobe motioned for him to continue to follow.

As Joren walked after the Tobe, he didn't see the toddler run across his path. Laughing, the little girl dodged away from her mother and ran straight into Joren's legs. Instinctively, Joren steadied her and set her back on her feet. He bent down to make sure she wasn't hurt. Before he could ask her, she was snatched away by her mother. Backing away from Joren, the women gripped her toddler tightly, her face a mask of fear. At first Joren didn't understand her fear, then comprehension dawned. She was afraid of _him_. She was afraid Joren would harm her little girl. He felt himself harden, his eyes icing over. His face, which had been curious and open moments before, became cool and remote. Did they think him that much of a monster? He knew wasn't a saint, but he wasn't a murderer of children either.

Turning away from the staring onlookers and the young mother and child, Joren followed Tobe to the healer's building. Once there a healer escorted him to a cot where his cuts and shallow wounds were stitched and bandaged. Throughout the whole process, Joren felt numb. He responded when asked a question, but he wasn't really listening. All he could think about was the look on the mother's face when she'd snatched her child back. For the first time, he realized that he wasn't merely hated and disliked, but was likened to that of monster. Loathed and abhorred, he would never be trusted with anyone or anything.

The healer was just finishing up with Joren when Neal caught sight of him. Shooing the other healer on, Neal crossed his arms and glared at Joren.

"I don't know what your game is, but if you plan to pull one over all of us, you're dead wrong. I won't let you ruin what Kel's done here. You can just crawl back to whatever hole you came from and leave us alone."

Joren met Neal's green eyes steadily. "I have no intention of starting anything with you. And don't worry. I won't bother Kel either. I finished being a jerk awhile ago."

Neal regarded him with suspicious disbelief. Before he could reply. Joren pushed past him and exited the building. Neal stared after him. Whatever he was up to, he wouldn't let Joren harm Kel.

3-3-3-3-3-3-3-3-3-3

Kel stared after Joren and Tobe. She had been about to return to her office, when she'd seen the young girl run into Joren. She'd seen the gentle way he'd picked her back up and set her back on her feet. She'd been surprised by his tenderness. It had seemed so anti-Joren that it'd baffled her. When the girl's mother, a new addition to New Hope by the name of Tyree, had grabbed her from Joren, Kel had seen the confusion then horror on his face before a mask of indifference had descended. Obviously he hadn't expected to be treated like an outlaw. The way his face had gone pasty white had struck something in Kel. _This_ was not the Joren she knew. Despite the difference in him she couldn't accept it was a sincere change. She'd been fooled too many times with his innocent act to blindly trust him now. Instead, she would continue to watch and observe. Hopefully she'd figure out his game before she began to delude herself into thinking he was a new man.


	4. New Understanding

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 4**

**New Understanding**

Joren made his way to the Kel's headquarters wearily. It suddenly seemed too much to face the emotionless knight. He knew that no matter what he did, she would never forgive him or trust him. The best thing to do now was to stay out of everyone's way until he could leave New Hope. Even the name of the refugee camp seemed tarnished somehow. For him, there was no 'new hope', only life alone and away from everyone.

Knocking on the door to Kel's office, Joren decided to be polite, but distant. That way he wouldn't have to worry about what Kel was thinking. It didn't take a scholar to realize that behind her Yamani mask, Kel was having similar thoughts to those of the rest of New Hope. Cruel. Cold. Monster.

"Come in." Kel's voice was muffled through the thick oak door. Joren opened the door slowly, stepping just inside the entrance and closing it quietly behind him. Kel was seated behind a sturdy wood desk covered in papers, an ink well, and several green ledgers. She was bent over a blue, dusty tome, trying to read the fine script. Glancing up distractedly, Kel pushed the hair away from her face and blew out a disgusted breath. When she caught sight of Joren, she froze, before stiffly motioning him to the straight-backed chair in front of her desk. Joren hesitated, before slowly sinking down into it. Even then, he kept firmly erect.

"Hello again. I hope the healers got you fixed up alright." Tilting her head, Kel studied his bandaged arm before continuing. "I need a full report on what exactly happened leading up to your arrival at New Hope. You are the leader of the 29th patrol, right?"

Joren sat rigidly under her probing gaze. Keeping his voice and face void of emotion he answered her. "Yes. I am the leader. It was my fault we got ambushed. I thought we were in a secure area. I shouldn't have let my guard down, but I got distracted." At these words something flashed across his face before Joren quickly controlled it.

"I lost eleven men out there. I know they were my responsibility and I know that I failed them." Clenching his fists, Joren waited for her judgment.

At his last statement, Kel's gaze sharpened. _His fault? He had failed them? _Was he trying to play the part of wounded soldier, burdened with guilt? Or was he truly feeling guilty? Staring into his ice blue eyes Kel saw a mirror to her own. His eyes were cool and emotionless. Narrowing her own hazel ones she saw a flicker of something. Regret? Was Joren capable of it? If someone had asked her that question a year ago she would have immediately answered with a swift and sure no. But now, uncertainty clouded her judgment. What if Joren had changed? What if, against all odds, Joren had become a new and different person? Wasn't it a possibility? Studying him intently, Kel decided that if he was putting on an act, it was a very good one.

Nodding her head slowly, Kel replied, "I'll need you to write up a full report to add to my own before I send it to Lord Wyldon. Whatever happened out there, it doesn't sound like you're at fault. Anyone can be surprised. If you didn't see it coming, your men should have been on the lookout too. Even the most cautious soldier can miss things. Beating yourself up after the fact helps no one. Learn from it and move on."

Joren stared at Kel. No recriminations? No, "Why weren't you doing your job?" And what was she talking about, it wasn't his fault? Of course it was! He had been in charge. He should be the one to blame. Joren tightened his jaw. She didn't understand what it was like to lose men when you should have prevented it. It wasn't the same as losing lives in battle. If only he had been paying attention more, then maybe he could have avoided the whole thing. Anger and disgust at himself intensified until he could hold it in no longer. With an angry growl he turned on Kel.

"You don't know you're talking about! It was MY fault! I failed them. I was the one who wasn't paying attention! Don't throw that crap about not being able to doing anything about it in my face. You don't understand." Realizing that he'd gone too far, Joren abruptly stopped his tirade. Losing the cold and remote mask he'd kept up since the battle to shield himself appalled him. Fuming at himself, Joren's face became like ice once more.

Kel studied him calmly. Shaking her head, she just sighed. "_You're_ wrong. I do know what it's like to feel guilty. Sometimes, things happen that you have no control of. Last year, New Hope didn't exist. In its place was another refugee camp, Haven. Back then, Blayce had his killing machines. For a few days, I left to deliver a report to Lord Wyldon and petition for more supplies at Fort Mastiff. When I came back, Haven had been destroyed. There were many dead and even more missing. All I could think was that it was my fault. If I had only stayed, maybe I could have saved them. I knew in my head that I couldn't have done anything, but it didn't stop the feelings of guilt."

During her explanation, Kel had gone to stand at the window overlooking the common grounds. When she fell silent, she turned around and met Joren's eyes. For the first time, Joren could read emotion in Kel's hazel stare. There was sadness there, along with an old and buried guilt. He realized then, that he had never seen emotion in her because she had hidden it. Around him, she had always kept her Yamani mask up, keeping him from seeing the true Kel. Seeing her without it brought something out in him. There was silent understanding between them in that moment. Neither said anything, but a tangible chord of something indefinable connected them. Before he could say that he understood, an abrupt knocking at the door broke the silence and their gaze.


	5. Acceptance

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 5**

**Acceptance**

Kel shifted her gaze and called out, "Come in."

The door opened and Neal walked through. "Kel, I really need to talk to you about…" At that moment, Neal caught sight of Joren. Surprise showed on Neal's face before he glared at him balefully. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be doing something productive, like cleaning the latrines? I'm sure the job would suit you perfectly."

Kel let out a huff of breath, "Neal, stop annoying Joren. I know it's hard to watch your tongue sometimes, but you really have to control your childish impulses."

Joren watched the exchange with amusement. The tension that had just been in the air had dissipated. Lifting a brow, he interrupted their conversation, "I'm sure whatever you have to tell Kel is of the _utmost_ importance. I'll just get out of your way. I think I'll visit the mess hall. I don't know about you two, but I'm starving." With an ironic salute, Joren left, closing the door with a snap.

Neal stared after him sputtering, "That impudent pup! Did you see that? He was making fun of me! Kel!" Neal glanced over to her. Her face was as bland as ever except for her eyes. They danced with amusement. "Its not funny, Kel! Joren is a menace. How can you make fun of me? That man is up to something. I'm not sure what it is yet, but I'll figure it out eventually. It's only a matter of time. He's acting too innocent for the Joren we know. For some reason, he's trying to fool us into believing he's a changed man, but I see right through him. He won't get anything past me!"

"Neal—" Kel interrupted him

"I'm serious, Kel. I'll make sure he stays in line. Don't worry about a thing. I can get Merric to help too. With the both of us working together Joren won't—"

Kel had had enough. "Neal! I don't need you to protect me. I'm a perfectly able knight. I've already had this conversation with Merric. Both of you worry too much. So far, I don't foresee any problems with Joren. He's acted a perfect gentleman—"

"See! _Acted_ a perfect gentleman. You know it's not really his true personality. We've been through this before. You don't actually believe he's sincere, do you?" When Kel merely stared at him, hands on her hips, Neal narrowed his eyes. "You _do_ believe him! Kel!" He looked horrified.

Kel rolled her eyes. "You need to stop being so dramatic, Neal. I've been watching him. I can't see him being able to disguise his emotions that well. It doesn't mean I'm completely convinced either, but I think he may have actually changed a little."

Neal shook his head sadly. "I can't believe it's come to this. Keladry of Mindelan has finally snapped." Neal glanced up as if asking guidance from the gods then solemnly placed both hands on Kel's shoulders. "I'm here for you, Kel. Don't worry about a thing. We'll get you the best counselors. I'm sure my father knows a few—"

"Nealan of Queenscove!" Kel stepped back and crossed her arms. "You should be ashamed! Acting as if I've taken leave of my senses is ridiculous! Now, shoo. I've a report to finish before I can go to lunch."

Still shaking his head sadly, Neal left, muttering all the while about crazy lady knights.

Sitting back down, Kel stared at the unfinished report on her desk before picking up her quill and dipping it in ink. Placing the quill where she had left off, Kel began to write.

5-5-5-5-5-5-5-5-5-5

Joren walked into the mess hall. He hadn't been joking when he had said he was hungry. Glancing around the large room, he noticed that it was already crowded. On his left was a table set with a wide variety of foods to choose from. There were plates and utensils at the beginning of the line and towards the end he could see several large pies, three-quarters of which, were already gone. Walking over to the tables of food, he picked up a plate, knife and fork. Starting down the line he picked a little of everything. By the time he reached the end, his plate was full, with no room for dessert. Shrugging his shoulders, Joren decided he'd come back for it if he could manage later.

Looking around for a free spot, he saw that many of the refugees were staring at him. Self-consciously, he chose a spot away from everyone in a corner. Setting down his plate, he realized he'd forgotten his drink. Getting up to retrieve it, he didn't see that one of the refugees was walking toward him. When the large, burly man stepped in front of him, Joren was forced to take a step back, for fear of running into the man. Crossing his arms, the man lifted his chin and grunted, "That spot you set your food down in," He motioned to Joren's plate. "It's Lady Keladry's usual place. You'll have to choose somewhere else."

Joren glanced back at his plate before slowly nodding. He didn't want to make a scene. He had just arrived. An altercation with one of the refugees was the last thing he needed. "Alright. I'll move." The man gave a satisfied grunt. Joren realized the whole mess hall had gone silent. Embarrassment and anger flushed his cheeks. Walking back to his plate, he picked it up. As he straightened, another plate was set down next to the place his had just vacated. Glancing up in surprise, Joren's gaze collided with Kel's. Nodding a hello, she tilted her head before inquiring. "What are you doing?"

Joren's face flushed again. Was she going to make an example out of him? Cautiously, he answered. "Don't worry, Mindelan, I'll get out of your way. I was just moving my plate."

Kel's brow furrowed, "Why? Don't feel comfortable sitting next to the commander of New Hope?" Confused, Joren stared at her. What was she talking about? Didn't she wasn't him to move?

"No. It isn't that. I didn't know this was your place. I don't want cause any trouble. I'll just find another spot." Taking his plate, Joren prepared to leave. Before he could take a step, Kel voiced a quiet statement. "It's your choice, where you sit, Joren. Whether you choose to stay here or find someplace else is your decision. Either way, I don't mind." Seating herself, Kel began to eat.

Joren was undecided. Should he sit with Kel or should he find a different seat? If he chose somewhere else, would she be insulted? He didn't think so. Her statement seemed more indifferent than anything else. Struggling with the decision, he finally gave up. Seating himself a little ways away from Kel, he watched for her reaction. Kel seemed disinterested in the whole affair. She didn't even seem to notice his presence. Following her example, Joren began to eat, slowly moving his fork from his plate to his mouth.

Kel ate with a single-mindedness, Joren found uncommon. She didn't pay attention to the whispers floating around the hall. Instead, she seemed oblivious. Within minutes, the noise in the room returned back to its normal level of a dull roar. Her behavior bothered him. Why had she let him keep his seat? Back at her office, she'd treated him like any other knight. Cool. Neutral. But at the end of his visit she'd revealed a part of herself that Joren had never seen before. Her sadness and guilt at her own failure to protect the people she'd cared for had shown through in her eyes. Kel's actions had seemed almost friendly. Was she so unconcerned with his residence at New Hope? She certainly acted like it, but he was an expert on the subject of hidden objectives. He knew all about it. Years ago, his whole life had been wrapped up in deceiving everyone around him. Thinking back, Joren felt disgust wind through him. Why had he been so cruel? He had no excuse, only an explanation. Shaking his head to rid himself of past demons, Joren concentrated on his food.


	6. A Shared Meal

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 6**

**A Shared Meal**

Kel was hungry. Walking into the mess hall, she hadn't expected to see Tomlin, a carpenter and sometimes farmer, confront Joren about his seating preference. She'd seen the resignation on Joren's face and something within her had protested. Despite her reservations, she'd invited him to either sit with her or choose a different spot. She'd seen his internal struggle and the confusion on his face. Giving him a chance to decide, she'd seated herself and begun to eat. For a moment he'd stood beside the table, uncertain what to do. Finally, he'd decided and climbing over the bench, he'd sat down not far from Kel.

As she was eating, Kel realized that she wasn't tense. Before, whenever Joren had been near, she'd always had her guard up. Sitting near him and sharing a meal should have made her more rigid and unyielding. Instead, she was treating him as if he wasn't a potential threat. That was dangerous. No matter what she felt, she couldn't _know_ for sure. She had to be more careful or she could be caught unawares. On one level, her inattention frightened her. Why was she treating him differently? She hadn't made a conscious decision to. What if her intuition was leading her astray? What if he had something planned to ruin her reputation and the trust she'd earned here at New Hope? Shaking her head, Kel let her useless thoughts disperse. It wouldn't matter. The people trusted her and one man's actions couldn't change that fact. She wouldn't worry about it. Instead, she'd let her perception of the situation rule.

Joren ate quietly. He had decided that staying silent and unnoticed was the best course of action. The last thing he needed was a confrontation. As Joren thought about the incident a few moments before, he became confused. Kel's almost offhand comment that she didn't mind where he sat had bothered him. Why did she not care? He would've expected her to _not_ want to sit near him. Instead of reinforcing what the burly refugee had demanded, she had merely told him that she didn't care and that it was up to him. He had been unsure then. Even if Kel seemed apathetic, it didn't mean she was. Deciding to stay had been a gamble. When he'd earned no reaction, he had breathed an internal sigh of relief. His plan now was to stay as inconspicuous as possible.

When the doors of the mess hall opened again, Neal and Merric strolled through. After they both filled their plates with food, they walked towards Kel and Joren. Neal saw Joren first. Grimacing, he nudged Merric in the ribs. Merric's eyes widened first with surprise then suspicion. Setting down their plates, Neal and Merric took seats across from Kel and Joren. Joren looked up in astonishment before he masked his features and they turned cool and wary. He knew they didn't trust him. Kel merely glanced up and gave a perfunctory wave of the hand before continuing her meal. Neal exchanged a look with Merric. Then, indicating Joren with a jerk of his chin, he addressed Kel. "What's _he_ doing here?"

Kel didn't even look up. "I would think that's obvious. Eating is widely accepted form of nourishment. Even you aren't too dense for that concept, Neal."

Neal narrowed his eyes, before glaring at Joren. "Kel. You know what I mean." Kel shrugged. "You'll have to make it more clear than that. I'm afraid I don't understand what you're trying to get at."

Giving a disgusted sigh, Neal gave up and began to arrange his food, separating them into neat piles. Merric raised his eyebrows before shrugging a shoulder and concentrating on his meal. Joren ignored them while continuing to eat. For a few tense moments, silence reigned. Then, looking up at Neal, Kel watched him avoid the greens on his plate. Glancing back to her own plate, she broke the silence. "Eat your vegetables, Neal."

Without missing a beat, Neal rolled his eyes before replying in his usual dry tone, "Yes, mother." Both Merric and Joren laughed at the same time. Looking equally horrified, they stared at one another.

Neal glared at Joren. "What are you laughing about? I don't think I included you in this conversation."

Joren raised an insolent brow. "I guess your childishness caught me off guard. Sorry if I offended you."

Looking outraged, Neal placed both palms on the table. "Did you just call me a child?"

Joren leaned back slightly. "Of course not. It wouldn't do to insult such a powerful knight like you, now would it?" At Joren's response, something resembling a growl came from Neal's throat.

Kel interrupted their sparring match with a firm command. She faced Neal first. "Really, Neal, you shouldn't be so easily provoked. You'll have to learn to hold onto your temper better." Without pausing, she turned to Joren.

"As for you, I don't want trouble." Meeting his gaze evenly, Kel emphasized the importance of her statement. "From past experiences I know what you're capable of. I suggest you keep a low profile. Instead of adding fuel to the fire, you should have just let it go. You know how Neal reacts."

Turning to include Neal and Merric, Kel went on. "We were all pages together, so we know the score. None of you have any excuses. I won't let your juvenile impulses ruin my meal." She looked pointedly at Neal. "Especially you, Queenscove." Finished with her speech, Kel returned to her food.

For several minutes the table was absolutely silent. Then tentatively, Merric cast out an observation. "At least, we still know Kel has her mothering instincts."

Neal smirked. "Yes, she's rather like a mother hen, scolding her squabbling chicks. " Pausing, he noted thoughtfully, "I guess that would make us the chicks though."

Kel frowned in disagreement. She _hated_ to be likened to the mothering fowl. "I do not act like a mother hen."

"Yes you do!" Both Neal and Merric chorused together. Joren threw out an assent. "I have to agree with those two on this one, Mindelan, even if it does go against my baser instincts."

Neal and Merric nodded their agreement. "See, even Joren the Nasty agrees with us." Surprised by his slip, Neal stared in alarm at Joren and Kel.

"Neal!" Kel was gazing at him sternly, a disapproving line to her lips.

Joren's face froze, his whole body going stiff at the barb. His eyes, which had just held a dry amusement, were now icy and cool. Joren slowly replied, his voice the same as before, except for an underlying chill. "I suppose I deserved that one. I was a bit nasty back then."

Neal stared at Joren. Slowly, a grudging respect stole over his face. Sighing, he objected. "No, I shouldn't have said it. The word just slipped out."

Coolly, Joren responded, "Don't worry about it. I'm used to it by now."

Wincing at his humble statement, Neal met Joren's eyes. "Maybe you have changed. I hope so, because if this is all some elaborate act and you hurt Kel, you'll wish you were never born." Merric nodded his head. "I'll second that." Joren lifted a single brow. "I think I'll wish I had never been born too."

Exasperated, Kel threw up her hands, "Men! Always thinking I'm some helpless female. You two!" She pointed her finger at Merric and Neal. "I'll meet you at the practice courts tomorrow." Picking up her plate, she marched to the disposal area, set it down, then left the hall.

Both Neal and Merric shared a resigned look. "We are so dead."


	7. Reports & Stable Talk

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 7**

**Reports & Stable Talk**

Kel woke to sound of birds singing. Sitting up, she reviewed her list of things to do for the day. When she remembered yesterday's lunch conversation, she smiled. Today she was expected to meet both Merric and Neal at the practice courts. She would enjoy teaching them a lesson. But before her appointment with the two of them, she also had to send out her weekly report to Lord Wyldon. Joren hadn't yet given her his personal account on the incident. Knowing that he'd probably get it to her today, she pushed it to the back of her mind.

Setting her feet on the cool, wood floor, Kel padded over to her glaive, which was hanging on the wall supported by three hooks. This weapon was her favorite. It was lethal at five feet of pole and capped with an eighteen-inch curved blade. Taking it down, she warmed up with a few practice moves. Soon she was immersed in a complex pattern dance. Her _naginata_ was a blur of movement and fine beads of sweat dotted her forehead. As she finished her morning workout, Kel cast her thoughts to Joren and the difference in him. He had the same cool demeanor, but instead of being nasty, as Neal had stated the day before, he held his tongue and was almost _nice_. She wondered at it. What had changed him? Who had changed him? The guilt-filled eyes she'd seen in her office pulled at her in a way nothing and no one else ever had. Was she beginning to let her guard down around him? Yes. She had actually begun to relax. Someway, somehow, Kel had become almost friendly with her one-time enemy. Thinking of the grudging respect she'd seen in Neal after his slip with Joren, she speculated at what it meant.

Placing her glaive back on the wall, Kel walked to the chest at the foot of her bed. Pulling out a clean tunic and breeches, she changed into them before lacing up her boots. Running a comb through her hair, she noted that it was nearly shoulder length. It looked like a haircut would be in order soon. Picking up a leather thong, she bound her hair back. Kel walked over to the ceramic bowl that served as her wash water. She splashed her face and cleaned her teeth. Looking up, she studied herself in the mirror hanging above the bowl. Her hazel dreamer's eyes were clear and wide. A small nose with freckles lightly dusted over the bridge was as yet unbroken despite her many battles. Kel decided she was lucky in that. Her stubborn mouth was firm and completed her look as a competent female knight. Satisfied with the face the gods had given her, Kel left the room, snatching Griffin from its place against the wall.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Joren walked across the common grounds as he made his way to the stables. He hadn't seen to his horse since he'd come to New Hope the day before. Despite the short passage of time, Joren felt as though he'd been there a week. The soothing atmosphere of the refugees at their daily work called to him. Even though they hadn't exactly welcomed him with open arms, Joren felt a stronger sense of hospitality from them that hadn't been there the day before. He realized Kel's open acceptance of him in the mess hall had impacted their opinion of him as a person. They obviously trusted her judgment and followed her example. Today he planned on strengthening their approval of him by volunteering. If he showed the residents that he could work as hard as the rest of them, he knew it would go a long way toward earning their respect.

Walking into the stable, Joren slowly perused each stall until he came to his stallion, Lancelot. The coal, black horse stuck out his head and sniffed Joren's fingers for treats. Finding none, he snorted indignantly as if scolding Joren for not having any. Laughing softly, Joren rubbed Lancelot's velvety nose.

"I'm sorry, boy, but I haven't anything to give you today. I'll have to search out the horse goodies later."

"If you were wantin' to give him a treat you shoulda said so. I always keep my pockets full of 'em." Startled, Joren spun around. He recognized Tobe, Kel's boy from yesterday. Giving him a puzzled glance Joren replied. "I thought you didn't like me very much."

"Well, I had a little talk with yer horse there and he says yer a good sort. They're usually a good judge of character. If he says yer okay, then it's prolly true. It doesn't mean I won't be watchin' you though. I've heard the stories and stories always come from some kind of truth."

"The stories are true, but I've come a long way from the man I was back then. I can tell you're very loyal to Kel. She has a good friend in you."

Tobe studied him for a moment before replying. "She took me in a few years ago, when she coulda just left me. There isn't another person like Lady Kel."

Joren nodded his head solemnly. "I know." Shoving a handful of treats at Joren, Tobe walked off, waving his arm in farewell.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Kel was looking for Joren. She hadn't seen him yet that day and she wanted to send off her report. As she passed the stables, Tobe called out from his seat on an old bucket. He was cleaning some tack, rubbing an old cloth soaked in oil rhythmically over the leather. "Who're you looking for my lady?"

Kel stopped, studying his ragtag look. She had just given him some new clothes. Mithros knew where they had gone. "How do you know I'm looking for someone?"

Tobe grinned. "You've got a line between yer eyes that you always get when yer searchin' for someone."

Kel stared at him in confusion. "I do not."

Tobe nodded, perfectly assured of his observation. "Last time you got that look was when you were looking for Sir Neal. Remember? That was the time he told everyone that you practiced yer mothering skills on real live chicks."

Kel smiled, remembering the beating she'd given him on the practice courts for that rumor. "You know, I think Neal's due for another thrashing. You reminded me. I'd fair forgotten in my rush."

Tobe's face split into a broad smile. "Can I watch? It's always fun watching Sir Neal fall flat on his face."

Kel laughed. "Of course you can. This time you'll get the added bonus of watching Merric join him."

Turning, Kel was about to walk off when Tobe called her back. "You never told me who you were looking for my lady."

Frowning at her absentmindedness she answered. "Actually, I was looking for Joren. Do you happen to know where he is?"

Tobe raised his eyebrows. "Aye, my lady. He's helping the carpenters with their new building project."

Kel stared at him in consternation. "Why ever is he doing that?"

Tobe shrugged his thin shoulders. "Who knows what goes on in the minds of nobles." Puzzling out the problem, Kel went in search for him.

Kel found Joren a few minutes later swinging a hammer. He'd rolled up the sleeves of his tunic and the defined muscles of his arms showed in every beat. Working easily, he shared casual conversation with the nearby carpenters. She watched as he threw his head back and laughed at a joke one of the workers had told. His shaggy blond hair, which had been tied back to keep out of his face, glinted with warm gold highlights. Kel was struck by his whole manner. She had never seen him act carefree or lighthearted. The former Joren had been all cold silences and cruel sneers. Something within her fluttered and danced, like butterflies too flighty to settle anywhere. Wondering at her reaction, Kel took a deep breath, before calling out to him.

"Joren!" Hearing his name, he turned to her. The smile on his face died and wariness replaced it. Setting down the hammer, he walked over to her, his stride cautious. "Mindelan. What are you doing here?"

Kel met his eyes squarely. "As a matter of fact, I was looking for you."

Joren furrowed his brow in confusion. "Was I supposed to meet with you?" Shaking her head, Kel dismissed the notion. "No, nothing like that. I was just wondering if you'd finished that report for Lord Wyldon."

Recollection dawned on his face. "Oh, yes. I finished it up last night. It's in my quarters. Would you like me to get it?"

Kel nodded. "If it isn't too much trouble."

Joren rolled his shoulders. "No problem. I would've gotten it to you sooner, but I got caught up. Sorry about that."

Merely raising a brow, Kel explained her motivation. "I just wanted to send out my report today. Since yours is finished, I can send them both out with the courier."

Joren gave a mock salute. "I'll get it to you right away, Sir Keladry." Amused, Kel watched him stride away.

As Kel waited for Joren to return, Tomlin, the burly carpenter who had made a show of making Joren seat himself elsewhere, walked up. "Ya know, he's not half-bad at woodworking."

Kel turned to him. "Really. I see that you've accepted him into the fold."

Sheepishly, the big man rubbed his neck. "He isn't so bad once you get past the frightful rumors. That Joren is a strange one though. The stories say he's the devil hisself, but when you get to know the man, all you see is a cool young gentleman."

Kel gazed after Joren. "He's different from before, Tomlin. He's changed. I don't know what prompted the transformation, but whatever or whoever inspired it, can have my thanks."

Glancing over the work site, Kel motioned toward the place Joren had been laboring. "Since I took away your helper, I could give you a hand, until he returns."

Letting out a deep laugh, Tomlin shook his head. "No thanks, my lady. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not have you near the construction. Everyone knows you're a disaster at carpentry. I wouldn't want to cast bad luck on the buildin'."

Kel grimaced. Did they _have_ to keep bringing up her less than average skills at woodworking? Sighing, she walked away before Tomlin could insult her further.


	8. The Practice Courts

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 8**

**The Practice Courts**

Joren returned with the report Kel had asked for, but she wasn't near the work site. Looking around, he spotted her talking to a middle-aged woman. They were standing near the housing buildings. Walking over to her, her heard the tail end of her conversation.

"—My lady, you know unreasonable that man is. He's as stubborn as the mules he cares for!"

Kel smiled ruefully as she shook her head. "You know the rules, Fanche. As long as he keeps them out of your garden, I can't make him move them.

"But the _smell_!" She protested. "It's terrible. I can't even do my cooking and cleaning, without having it waft over into my kitchen."

"I'm sorry. Surely you two can come to some agreement. You are the headwoman of this place. Last year you led your fellow refugees to safety. This problem is hardly something you can't handle."

Sighing, Fanche shook her head, as she replied in a wry voice. "I knew you wouldn't be able to help, but I'd thought I'd give it a try anyway."

Just then, Kel caught sight of Joren. Nodding, she motioned him to her side. "Joren, I'd like you to meet Fanche. A better leader, you'll never find."

Joren gave the woman an easy smile as he bowed politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Fanche. Kel's compliments are always warranted. You must be a fine leader indeed."

Although pleased by Joren's graciousness, Fanche gave him a stern look. "Where did you find this one Lady Kel? He has the look of a player if you ask me."

Kel laughed lightly before shaking her head. "You know how it is. I can't seem to rid myself of them."

Clucking her tongue, Fanche waved off her excuse. "I've work to do, but it was nice meeting you, Sir Joren. Good-Bye, Lady Kel."

Kel and Joren watched her walk off. Remembering the reason he had come looking for her, Joren pulled out a rolled parchment tied with a red cord. "Here's that report you were asking for. I hope its clear enough for Lord Wyldon."

Kel nodded her thanks. "I'm sure it's fine." Taking the parchment from him, she asked him about his carpentry work. "Why'd you volunteer to help with the building project? I would think you'd want to avoid Tomlin after the scene in mess hall yesterday."

Joren watched a group of children playing with sticks as substitutes for swords. One particular young girl was declaring herself Lady Kel. He smiled at the display. Turning to meet Kel's eyes, he answered her.

"The only way I'll earn the respect of the refugees here, is if I help out and show them that I can do work without complaining as well as anyone. Woodwork has always been a favorite of mine. I thought I'd try my hand at that first. I just happened to get the added bonus of befriending Tomlin."

As Kel began to walk back to her office, Joren fell into step beside her. She thrust her hands into her pockets. "Well, you did make an interesting impression on him."

When Kel neared headquarters, she caught sight of Neal coming from the infirmary. Calling out to him she changed direction. "Neal!"

As he turned around and caught sight of Kel, the knight cringed. "Kel, was there something you needed?" He eyed her warily.

Kel smiled sweetly, noting his cautious expression. "I was just going to remind you of our appointment at the practice courts. I think half past two should do well enough."

Neal gave a defeated sigh and ran a hand through his already disheveled dark hair. "I had hoped you'd forgotten."

Kel gave him an admonishing look. "You know better than that, Sir Meathead. Give Merric my message too. I'll expect both of you there. You wouldn't want me to hunt you down. It would be an embarrassment to us both."

Neal rolled his eyes. "Now when have I ever done that!"

Kel merely lifted a brow. "I distinctly remember a month ago—" Neal grimaced. "Alright, alright! We'll be there!"

Kel smiled serenely. "I knew you'd see it my way."

Throughout the exchange Joren had remained quiet. As Neal trudged away, he called after him, "I'm sure Mindelan will make it as painless as possible, Queenscove." Turning around to glare at Joren, Neal stuck out his tongue. Joren turned to Kel. "He is quite childish, isn't he?" Kel nodded in agreement.

8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

Kel finished putting both her and Joren's report into a leather pouch for the courier. Adding a supply list to the bag, she closed the flap and tightened the clasp that held it closed. Taking it with her she headed for the stables. Tobe saw her coming and met her in the yard. "The weekly reports for Lord Wyldon?" Tobe indicated the leather pouch in her hand.

Handing it to him, she inquired. "Could you have these sent off with Halden? He hasn't left for Fort Mastiff yet has he?"

Tobe shook his head. "I told him to hold off, since you were goin' to get that report from Sir Joren."

Kel set a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks Tobe, I don't know what I'd do without you."

Smiling shyly, he ducked his head. "My Lady! You aren't going to act all girly now, are you?"

Kel laughed. "Now would I do that to you?"

Tobe grinned and stared up at her skeptically. "Yes." Shaking her head, Kel studied his tousled appearance. She had long ago given up her campaign on keeping his clothes clean. Waving her good bye, Kel left for the practice courts. She was expected to teach Neal and Merric a lesson. Tobe watched her go and calculated that he had about ten minutes until the fun started. Meanwhile, he'd spread the word.

8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

Kel was having fun. Already, Neal was tiring, his thrusts becoming more sluggish. Kel whipped Griffin up into a butterfly strike, then swiftly changed directions. Her long-time friend struggled to keep up. Trying valiantly to counter each move, Neal's breath began to wheeze. Within minutes, Kel's sword tip was at Neal's throat and a huge cheer went up from the surrounding spectators. Looking up in surprise, Kel realized that much of New Hope was gathered there. She recognized many of them. She saw Tobe wave from his spot on the side. Standing just behind him was Joren. He was leaning his forearms against the fence enclosing the practice arena. Seeing her gaze, he gave a small nod. Kel noted with interest that several New Hope residents were talking companionably with him.

Bowing to each other, Kel and Neal ended the match. Neal looked exhausted. Complaining of his worn muscles, he limped off the court. Merric, who was waiting his turn on her left, grimaced at Neal's haggard state. Obviously, he was dreading his own match with Kel. Giving a resigned sigh, he walked up to her. Standing across from each other, they bowed before circling. Merric was quicker than Neal. Where the healer had a longer reach, Merric made up for in agility. Watching for any telling signs of a strike, Kel kept her eyes trained on the muscles of his chest. She could often tell where her opponent would hit a split second before he moved. Not waiting to see if he would strike first, Kel moved in. Blocking and striking, Kel and Merric danced over the ground, neither landing a hit. For several minutes this went on, with no one gaining the advantage. Finally, Kel spotted an opening and began to drive Merric back. Soon, it was he could do to block her sword from landing. As soon as the match had begun, it was over. The tip of Griffin had found Merric's throat. Another round of cheers went up and Kel bowed her thanks. Wiping away the sweat on her forehead, she gave a contented sigh. Hopefully her lesson would keep her comrades out of trouble for at least a month. Walking over to where both men had collapsed. She bent down. "Maybe next time, you'll both learn to hold your tongue."


	9. Unexpected Touch

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter**** 9**

**Unexpected Touch**

After her success on the practice courts, Kel had decided to head for the stables. As she had left, many of the spectators had congratulated her on her victory against both Neal and Merric. Those two had headed in the opposite direction, supporting each other a little too dramatically. Smiling in exhausted relief, Kel walked slowly to the stables. As she skirted the mess hall, a shadow stepped out from the side of the building.

"Nice win on the courts. You're a mean hand with a sword. You may even be as good as me, though I doubt it."

Surprised by Joren's presence, Kel started. When she'd seen who it was, she'd instinctively relaxed. Kel knew she should have done just the opposite. This was _Joren_ after all, but for some reason she was at ease. Crossing her arms doubtfully, she replied to his confidant statement regarding his prowess with a sword.

"Should I bow to your obviously superior skill?"

Joren smirked. "Actually, that's a good idea." He nodded his head. "Go ahead. I'm waiting."

Rolling her eyes in disgust, Kel turned and began to walk away. For a few moments there was no sound. Then his unmistakable footsteps followed. Catching up, he drew even with her, matching his stride to hers. "Where are you headed?"

"The stables. I really need to spend some time with my horses. I'm afraid I've been neglecting them."

Joren shook his head in amusement. "Keladry of Mindelan neglecting her animals? Never! If anything, you smother them with your attention. I remember when we were pages, and you'd always have some sort of animal following you. Do you remember the time you had your sparrows attack me in the woods? They ran me straight into a very painful thorn bush." He was silent for a moment. In a subdued tone, he continued. "I suppose I deserved it for spying on you."

Kel frowned in remembrance. "Back then you were a different Joren. It's almost as if the person you are now and person you were then, are completely different people. I don't suppose you have an evil twin stashed away somewhere?"

Kel watched Joren laugh, the ghosts of the past disappearing from his eyes. "I wish I could blame all my misdeeds on one, but no, there's only one of me walking the earth. Lucky for you."

Kel smiled ruefully. "Two of you wouldn't be so bad. As long as it's the new you and not the old."

Joren shook his head skeptically. "I don't know about that, Mindelan. I think people are having trouble accepting me now. Adding another one of me may be too much for the world to handle. Anyway, what makes you so sure I'm not the same Joren? I could be just pretending for all you know." Joren's eyes were fixed intently on her face, waiting for her answer. The cool look was back in them, turning them an icy blue.

Kel took her time answering. "I don't know. The new Joren I see could very well be an elaborate act set to fool me. As it is, I don't trust you. I can't. I've been burned by your act before."

Joren's gaze flickered for a moment before returning to its frigidity. His face was very still, like stone and his eyes betrayed nothing. Slowly, he nodded. "I respect that and you should be wary of me. After all, I was the epitome of the contemptible noble and not to be trusted." Turning he began to walk again. Kel followed in silence.

Coming to the stable doors, Joren silently held one open for her. Nodding, Kel thanked him as she walked through and went in search of her horses. Peachblossom had his head over the stall door. When he caught sight of Kel, he gave a loud whinny as if reproaching her for her negligence. Laughing softly, Kel opened his stall door and went to him, rubbing his nose and murmuring in his ear. Turning around she motioned for Joren to come closer.

"You can come meet Peachblossom if you like."

Shaking his head, he stayed where he was, giving Peachblossom a wary eye. "I don't think he liked me much when we were pages and I'd bet a bag of coppers he remembers that I wasn't a favorite of yours." Joren's eyes narrowed in sudden understanding. "I see. So that's how you'll get you're revenge. You're going to feed me to that monster."

Kel gave him a dry look. "However did you find out about my evil plan?" Shaking her head, she turned to her horse. Kel held Peachblossom's head, a hand on each cheek and looked him sternly in the eye. "See here, Peachblossom. You're not to bite, kick, or injure Joren in any way. Understand? You're to be the polite horse I know you can be." Snorting, as if begrudging her orders, the old gelding nodded his head, his mane tossing with the motion. Kel looked over her shoulder, and re-sent her invitation. "You can come over here now. He won't bite."

Joren laughed derisively, while shaking his head. "I don't know about you, but last time I checked, animals didn't understand our language. He has that mean look in his eye. As soon as I'm in reach, he'll take a chunk out of me."

Rolling her eyes, Kel walked back over to Joren and took his arm. He started in astonishment. The air around them thickened with sudden tension. Surprised by her own audacity, Kel stared at him. Beneath her hand, his bicep was hard. She could feel the muscles that were corded there. Joren met her gaze with the same surprise. His eyes were ice blue, except for a warm flame that flickered in their center. Up close, she could see small flecks of silver in their depths. Thick eyelashes surrounded each eye, but instead of giving him a more feminine look, they did just the opposite, enhancing his masculinity. Her breath catching, Kel quickly let go.

"I'm sorry. I guess I got carried away."

Joren shook his head, his eyes becoming cold again, the small flame extinguished. His voice was very cool. "Of course. You just surprised me for a second. It's fine."

Avoiding his gaze, Kel walked back to Peachblossom's stall. Taking a deep breath to regain some of her lost composure, Kel used the well-practiced skill of hiding her emotions behind a Yamani mask. Footsteps echoed toward her. Joren's voice was detached. "If you think he won't bite me, I'll trust your judgment, Mindelan. I wouldn't want to be labeled a coward."

Thinking of a calm lake in her mind's eye, Kel slowly turned to face him. "He won't."

Joren searched her face for a long moment before nodding. "Alright." A small, mocking smile curved his lips. "Take me to meet the beast."

Kel felt her heartbeat slowly return to normal. Swiftly, she opened the stall door wider to let him through. Giving Peachblossom a firm look, she gripped his halter, holding him still. Cautiously, Joren reached out a hand and let the gelding sniff his fingers. When the horse seemed satisfied, he moved his hand to the forelock, scratching just behind it to reach his poll. Groaning in pleasure the old war-horse stretched out his neck, so Joren could better reach the spot. Meeting Kel's eyes over Peachblossom's head he smiled in surprise. "You were right. He isn't going to bite me. Actually, I think he approves. I don't know how he understood you, but whatever language you used, it worked."

Kel nodded, glad they were back to normal. Whatever had passed between them a few minutes before would be puzzled out later, when Kel could reason it out in the privacy of her own room. "After we're finished with this monster, you can meet Hoshi. Don't worry, she's a real sweetheart compared to this bruiser."

Joren chuckled. "I don't know. I think me and Peachblossom are really starting to bond. I'm actually beginning to like him."

9-9-9-9-9-9-9-9-9-9

Kel lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. Soft moonlight streamed through her window, making odd shadow patterns on her walls. What had been between her and Joren at the stables today? When she'd gazed into his eyes she'd seen a strange warmth in them. At the time, they'd seemed bluer and deeper, betraying some unknown emotion. Kel remembered the silver flecks in them that she'd never seen before. The thick eyelashes surrounding his eyes had somehow made him seem more male. Thinking of Joren's icy good looks, she sighed. Kel knew she wasn't a beauty. Why should she care anyway? She was a knight, devoted to serving others. Her appearance had never concerned her before, but now she found herself wishing for the more feminine looks she'd seen on many court ladies. Shaking her head, she rid herself of her foolish thoughts. Thinking back, Kel realized that Joren had had an odd sort of pull on her, like a magnet. Whenever she was near him, she felt relaxed, despite the knowledge his new self could be an act. Could it be that Kel was attracted to him? Shaking her head, she dispelled the notion. No. Of course not. He was her former enemy. How could she like someone she knew wasn't to be trusted?


	10. Sparring on the Battlements

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter ****10**

**Sparring on the Battlements**

Joren stared out over New Hope's land. From his vantage point on the battlements, he could see where the tree line started. The trees were a black outline against the dark sky. Joren rested his forearms against the smooth, cool, stone. Bright pinpoints of light twinkled from above. Turning his gaze upward, he studied them. The stars were beautiful tonight. He realized then, that he'd never taken the time to appreciate them in the past. Taking a deep breath of the cool night air, Joren thought back to earlier that evening with Kel. 'The Lump' had a sense of humor. He'd seen it then and he'd seen it at lunch. It was hard to believe. He'd always thought her to be emotionless. Instead of a stoic and unmoving knight, she was quiet with an underlying streak of humor and kindness. He'd seen the kindness in the way she treated people. She was respectful of everyone, even him. The way she treated the refugees was different. Most nobles, including himself in the past, treated commoners like animals. They were expected to bow and scrape and serve their betters. Kel treated them as equals.

Moonlight bathed the stone flags making them appear almost silvery, instead of their usual dusty gray. Joren stared at them unseeingly, remembering the intense moment between them. When Kel had touched his arm, something had happened. He'd stared at her in surprise. Maybe it was because he'd avoided casual contact in the past and wasn't used to it. Whatever the reason, the unexpected touch had startled him. He remembered looking down into her hazel eyes and seeing an undeniable connection. Confusion filled him. Had he imagined their shared moment? Afterwards, she had acted like the old Kel, never betraying her deeper emotions. No. He had felt it and seen it. When she had pulled away in aversion, he'd felt disappoint flow through him. He couldn't expect her to like him or receive him so easily, but it had hurt nonetheless. Disgust filled him. Why did he care anyway? He was Joren of Stone Mountain, unmoved by anything so trite as human emotion.

Footsteps echoed against the stone flags as someone approached from the darkness. Uneasy, Joren turned and called out, "Who's there?"

Stepping out of the shadows, the figure held out a hand. "It's just me."

Subtly relaxing, but not letting his guard down, Joren leaned back against the wall. He still wasn't sure how Merric felt about him. Joren called out a greeting. "Hollyrose isn't it? What are you doing out here?"

Merric joined him, his gaze resting on Joren. "I was about to ask you the same question."

Tilting his head back, Joren raised his eyes to the night sky again. "Just thinking, not that it's any of your business. Was there something you needed?"

Glancing over, Merric lifted a brow. Obviously, he had seen that there was more to it than that. "No, nothing like that."

Joren gazed at him coolly, waiting for an explanation. Merric met his gaze without flinching. "Just getting some fresh air. The rooms get stuffy at night."

Joren nodded slightly. "I see. Of course you wouldn't be keeping an eye on me, since I'm such a gentleman and all."

Merric gave him a sardonic smile. "Of course not. I wouldn't want to question the honor of such a virtuous knight like you. After all, you're just the kind of nobleman the Crown needs, trustworthy, benevolent, and chivalrous."

Joren struggled with whether to be amused or insulted. Amusement won out. "You know, you're right. I _am_ the epitome of the chivalrous knight. Thank you, kind sir for that bit of enlightenment."

Merric snorted contemptuously. "You really need to work on that conceited attitude of yours. If you don't watch it, someone's going to take you to task with a beating."

Joren gave him a dubious look. "You forget that someone already has, numerous times. I believe you were part of Mindelan's little vigilante group. Come to think of it, I distinctly remember you bloodying my nose once. I don't recall receiving an apology for that injury." Joren looked pointedly at Merric.

Merric gave him a sarcastic smile. "I'm very sorry, sir knight. I didn't realize I had become remiss in my duties. Let me give you my apology now." Bowing mockingly, Merric recited his expression of regret. "I am truly sorry for giving you a bloody nose. I should have made your injuries more grievous. Next time, I'll make sure the incident is remembered more clearly."

Laughing, Joren bowed in return. "Touché. I do believe you have outwitted me this time." There was respect in his gaze, as he looked Merric over. "I always thought you were just a part of Mindelan's shadow. You've proven your worthiness as an opponent, at least at verbal sparring. As for the rest of your doubtful talents, time will tell." Turning, Joren disappeared, leaving a thoughtful Merric behind.

10-10-10-10-10-10-10-10

Neal frowned at Kel. "What do you mean, I should be friendlier to Joren? I'm friendly!" Kel gave him a measuring look. Neal's green eyes were widened in protest and his arms were crossed over his chest, the perfect image of the offended gentleman.

Kel refused to back down. "You're last statement to him was something like, 'If it's all an act, you'll wish you were never born.' Tell me, where's the friendliness in that?"

Neal huffed, indignant that she'd dare criticize _him_ of being rude. After all, Joren had tormented all of them in their page years. It wasn't his fault he wasn't feeling _friendly_ towards the man. When Kel continued to give him that level disapproving look, Neal began to squirm. "I was just protecting you! It's not—"

Kel's eyes narrowed crossly. "I can protect myself. That excuse is no longer acceptable."

Neal cringed. He didn't want to make Kel angry. She rarely was, but when you got her started, she was relentless. The last time she had been angry had been a day ago. It was too soon for another beating. "I didn't mean that, I was just saying that he hasn't exactly been a great role model in the past."

Kel lifted her chin. "That's just it though. It's in the _past_. Therefore, he deserves the right of innocent until proven otherwise."

Neal began to protest again, but thought better of it. He didn't want to push her too far. He was still sore from his last lesson. "Alright, Alright! I'll be _friendly_ toward the man! What do want me to do?"

Kel smiled. "I don't know, find something you have in common and _be nice_. I'm sure you'll think of something." Irritably, Neal stalked off, muttering about bossy lady knights and being _friendly._


	11. Chess Game

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter ****11**

**Chess Game**

Joren was content. He was working with the carpenters again. It was easy swinging a hammer. There was light laughter, new friendships, and warm sunshine. The rap of hammer on nails echoed throughout the work site. A barrel of cool water was kept close to offset the hot summer sun's dehydrating effect. Laughing at a joke Tomlin was telling him, Joren set down his hammer. He glanced up at the sky, noting that it was almost dinnertime. He had started early that morning and had only stopped briefly for lunch. Rolling his shoulders, he tried to loosen the muscles that had started to cramp from bending over sections of wood all day. Joren winced at the soreness there. He was unused to staying in one position for very long.

Tomlin observed his discomfort. "You've done more than enough today. You should take a break and go do something else."

Joren grinned. "Are you kicking me off the project?"

Tomlin scratched his head. "Now, I wouldn't say that, but there's a limit to everyone. You look worn out. Go relax."

Joren shook his head, and in a mournful voice, replied to Tomlin's remark. "Now you've hurt my feelings. Insinuating that I can't keep up with the rest of you tough carpenters, is an insult to my pride."

Tomlin let out a deep laugh. "We were born to it, boy! You puny knights couldn't keep up if your life depended on it."

Joren protested to the outright challenge. "I've done fairly well, for a puny knight. I finished the north section pretty quickly."

Tomlin nodded thoughtfully. "I'll give you that one, but I'm afraid you're the exception to the rule. Lady Kel is the perfect example. She couldn't hammer two planks together without hitting a thumb or worse. Whenever she tries, she leaves with bruises all over her hands. Don't tell her I told you though. She might thrash me with that pigsticker of hers."

Joren felt disbelief creep over him. Kel? Not good at something? "So there _is_ something she's not talented at. I was starting to wonder. I remember that as pages, she'd always excel in her studies and her weapons skills, no matter how hard I made it for her. She never quit."

"And yet you continued to harass her every chance you got." Startled, Joren turned around. Standing behind him was Neal. As if regretting his words, the healer winced. "I take that back. It was never said." Not meeting his gaze, Neal muttered something under his breath, but all Joren caught was the word 'friendly'.

Confused, Joren frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Neal shifted his weight uneasily. "I didn't say a thing."

Joren was bewildered. What was the odd man saying? Deciding to go along with Neal's claim of silence, Joren nodded solemnly. "Of course you didn't."

Tomlin interrupted their conversation. "I've got to get back to work. See you, Sir Joren, Sir Neal." Giving a half wave to Joren he ambled off.

Joren watch him go before turning back to Neal. "Was there something you wanted?"

Neal nodded, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. "Actually, there was."

When Neal didn't continue, Joren prompted him. "And you wanted me for what exactly?"

Muttering to himself again, Neal cleared his throat. "I was just wondering. Do you play chess?" He said the last part in a hurry, as if he was nervous. Joren stared at him for a moment. Where was he going with this?

Uncertainly, he answered. "Yes, I know how to play, but I still don't understand. What does chess have to do with anything?"

Growling his frustration, the other knight kicked a clod of dirt bad-temperedly. "It doesn't, I mean… I wanted to know if you'd like to play a game. With me."

Eyebrows raised, Joren crossed his arms. "You don't sound very enthusiastic. Rather, you sound like you're in pain."

Neal sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I _do_ want to play a game of chess. I was only trying to be _friendly_." Neal said the last word as if he were pulling teeth.

Joren nodded slowly. "Ok then. In the name of friendliness, let's play a game. I'd enjoy a match, since chess is a favorite of mine."

Neal gave a sigh of relief. "Good." Turning, he began to walk away. He spun back around when he realized that Joren wasn't following. "Well? Are you coming? There's a set in my quarters." Setting off again, Neal marched away. After a moment, Joren followed.

11-11-11-11-11-11

"Ha! I have you now! That queen isn't going anywhere." Neal's voice was raised in excitement. Sitting back in satisfaction, he crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face. "I'd like to see you get out of that one, Stone Mountain."

True to his word, Joren had played Neal a game. When the other knight had lost the first one, he'd demanded a rematch, claiming bad luck. Always happy to play, Joren had agreed. After the second loss, Neal had become agitated. Requesting yet another match, he vowed to win. The first two games had been a fluke of course. Now that he was warmed up, he had a sure victory. Joren had simply set up the board and they had begun again. Now they were in the middle of their third game.

Joren studied the board carefully. Resting his chin on the palm of his hand, his eyes took in the position. Neal watched his expression. It never changed. It didn't matter if he was in an even position or completely winning, his face stayed emotionless. He reminded Neal of Kel that way. Finally, Joren made his move. "Nd5. Your turn."

Anxiously, Neal analyzed the board. Relaxing when he found no traps, he took Joren's queen off with a flourish. "Now what? I have your queen. I've as good as won. You might as well give up, there's nothing—"

Joren interrupted Neal's declaration of victory with a simple, "Check."

Narrowing his eyes carefully, Neal studied the board again. Seeing only one move, he pushed his King back. "Kc2."

Joren barely paused before moving again. "Bg6 Check."

Frowning, Neal moved his king back again. The decisive way Joren moved made him uneasy. "Kb1."

Without hesitation this time, Joren picked up his rook and moved it all the way across the board to the back rank. "Re1 Check."

Staring at the board, Neal realized that he would be checkmated in one move. He could block with only one piece before it would be taken off and he would be in checkmate. Incredulous, Neal leaned back in his chair and moaned. Giving a defeated sigh he picked up his bishop and moved it in front of the king.

Glancing up, Joren made his last move. "Rxd1. Checkmate."

Throwing up his hands in despair, Neal howled. "How did this happen to me? I was _winning!_ I had your queen!"

Joren sat back and eyed Neal warily. Deciding to show him his mistakes he pointed to the board. "Your biggest problem is your king. It's out in the open. That's really dangerous. You want to get castled early and keep your king behind a row of pawns. That way, it's more difficult for me to attack it. Even though you won my queen, you underestimated how powerful my remaining pieces were. In this case, I didn't need my queen. Just my rook, bishop and knight."

Throughout Joren's explanation, Neal had been staring at him with disgust. Now he pointed an accusing finger. "First you lead me to believe that you're not very good, then you play that sneaky opening, and to top it all off, you lure me into taking your queen, all the while you have a checkmate lined up!" Crossing his arms, Neal glared at Joren.

Staring in surprise, Joren merely blinked before recovering. "I didn't lead you to believe I was a beginner. I simply said I enjoyed the game."

Neal interrupted his statement. "But you said it with that innocent air, like it was a passing hobby or something. You didn't say that you were actually any _good_!"

Confused by Neal's reasoning, Joren shook his head. "I didn't know I was _supposed_ to announce my level of experience." Joren shrugged in apology. "Sorry."

Huffing indignantly, Neal pointed his finger again. "What about that sneaky opening? I've never seen it before!"

Joren brows knit as he thought back to the game. "You mean the Sicilian? That's just a—"

Neal didn't allow him to finish. "The sneaky Sicilian! See!"

Dazed, Joren sat back in his chair. Why was he getting so worked up about it? It was just a game. Studying Neal cautiously, he noted that he was now pacing in front of the board.

"That's not all! You lured me into taking your queen. If you hadn't done that, I would've won! I just know it!" Neal was again scowling at Joren fiercely, waiting for his explanation.

Coolly, Joren shrugged, all the while watching the raving knight. "I didn't force you to take the queen. That was purely your choice."

Neal continued to scowl for a moment more before collapsing into his chair. Letting out a puff of breath, he waved his hand wearily in Joren's direction. "You're right of course. I overreacted. I just _really_ hate to lose, especially in chess. I had always thought that I wasn't a half-bad player. I almost always beat everyone. Except for Kel of course. She's extremely good at the game. Now you've destroyed my illusions." Neal ended his justification with a dramatic sigh.

Joren gazed at him hesitantly, checking to make sure the knight was finished. Satisfied, he extended a cautious peace offering. "If you like, I could give you some more pointers. You're actually very good. You just need to work on your general principles a bit."

Neal eyed him speculatively. "Would you help me beat Kel?"

Joren paused a minute before replying. "If I can. I don't know how good Mindelan is, so I couldn't say precisely."

Satisfied with the answer, Neal extended his hand. "You help me beat Kel and I'll be _friendly_ towards you. Ok?" Joren gripped his hand in agreement.

As Neal began setting up the board, Joren asked him something that had been bothering him all evening. "Why is it that every time you say the word 'friendly', you say it sarcastically? I don't get it."

Neal laughed. "Oh that. I really shouldn't say. It's just something Kel asked me to do. She wanted me to be friendlier towards you. I've decided that she's probably right. You are different. It doesn't mean I won't still be watching you. And it doesn't mean that I forgive you for everything you've done to us before, but maybe, just maybe, you've changed a little."

Meeting Neal's eyes, Joren replied seriously. "Thanks for giving me a chance." He smiled to lighten his words. "Even if it's given grudgingly."


	12. New Visitors

**Unexpected Love**

"_**We come to love not by**_

_**finding a perfect person, but**_

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter**** 12**

**New Visitors**

Kel was tired. She had put in a long day helping some of the farmers. With her dubious help, they had finished seeding the southern fields. Though always determined to do her share, Kel had always found driving a plow difficult. The beast attached to her plow had seemed to have a mind of its own, never staying in a straight line. Staring at her hands in disgust as she trudged back to New Hope, Kel noted the angry red blisters that covered them. It didn't seem to matter how many times she did it. Each time seemed as if the first, with new blisters where she thought none could appear. She'd have to wrap her hands when she got back to her quarters. The healers didn't have to be bothered by a few blisters after all. Head down in exhaustion, Kel didn't see Joren and Neal come out of her building.

Neal was the first to catch sight of her. "Kel! Over here!"

Glancing up, Kel was dismayed to see Neal walking quickly towards her, Joren, not far behind. Tucking her hands out of sight, she pasted a smile on her face. "Neal, Joren. What have you two been up to? You're both looking decidedly pleased with yourselves."

Neal smiled. "We've been playing chess. And before you ask, I was _friendly_. Ask Stone Mountain here."

Kel lifted a brow. "I'll take your word for it. Who won?" Looking from Neal to Joren, she noted Joren's smug smile and Neal's sheepish look.

"Actually, Joren won all three games. I should have won the last one though, but he played this sneaky opening called the Sicilian and then he tricked me into taking his queen while he checkmated me. Very underhanded if you ask me." Neal sniffed disparagingly.

Joren smiled coolly. "It was a perfectly fair game. Just because you didn't know the opening doesn't mean it doesn't exist. As for the trap, it was your choice. I didn't hold you to sword point. Tactics are the name of the game, sir knight."

Kel hid a smile behind her hand. It looked as if the two former enemies were getting along a lot _friendlier_.

Neal's gasp of horror reminded Kel of her blistered hand. Tucking it back out of sight, she tried to act as if it were nothing. Not a stranger to her tactics, Neal yanked her hand back out of her pocket and studied it carefully. Giving her a reproachful glance, he lifted a hand as green fire gathered and settled over her injured palm.

"Kel! Sometimes I wonder at your common sense! You're a great leader, but when it comes to healing small cuts and bruises you hide them away as if they were badges of shame. You don't get a medal for enduring pain you know. It's pathetic really. You call me childish, but if this isn't childishness I don't know what is. These look as if they came from driving a plow all day. How many times must you torture yourself before you give in? I've told you to avoid those things, but do you listen? Of course not!"

Kel closed her eyes and sighed as Neal's cool green fire danced over her hot and blistered hand. Even though she had been avoiding a healing, she was still relieved by the absence of the painful sores. She ignored Neal's diatribe. She had heard all of his dramatizations before. He always made it seem more than it really was. It wasn't as if she were injured fatally.

Grabbing her other hand, Neal glared at the sight of more angry red sores. Lifting his hand, he let his Gift flow over her palm again. He muttered under his breath, presumably about her stupidity. Joren, who had watched the whole exchange with amusement, smiled. It was interesting to watch the usually untouchable lady knight get berated for not having her hands healed properly. Joren recalled a similar situation not too long ago.

Deciding to remind her of it, Joren grinned. "Mindelan. This situation seems vaguely familiar. Do you remember your command to have all injuries healed no matter how small the cut? I believe you aren't following your own rules." Joren lifted an inquiring brow. Hypocrisy much?

Kel grimaced and ducked her head. "This is different. I was plowing, not fighting enemy Scanrans. Besides, they're only blisters."

Joren smirked. "If I recall correctly, your exact words were, 'It doesn't matter if its only something little. The smallest scratch can get infected and turn into a major problem later.' Does that ring a bell?"

Kel sighed and gave up. "I didn't want to bother anyone about a few blisters."

Neal, finished with the healing, jumped back into the conversation. "A _few_ blisters? Your hands were covered in them! There were blisters on top of blisters!" His voice was outraged.

Kel winced at Neal's observation. "I wanted to finish the southern field today. I'll wear gloves next time. I forgot and—"

Neal interrupted with an exasperated cry. "Do you see what I go through? She _forgot_ her gloves. You're not plowing anymore fields!"

Kel rolled her eyes. "Neal, you're exaggerating the situation. It was only a fe—"

Neal glared. "Don't you dare say a _few _blisters again. You know it was much more than that."

Kel held up her hands with a resigned sigh. "I give up, alright?"

Neal, happy with the victory, gave a satisfied nod. Joren, who had been watching their exchange, motioned toward the mess hall. "I'm starving. All that winning made me hungry." Without another word, Joren ambled off. Kel and Neal hesitated only briefly before following.

12-12-12-12-12-12-12-12

Kel was just finishing up her meal, when Tobe rushed through the doors, fairly dancing with excitement. Racing to Kel's side, he grinned with delight. "My Lady! We've visitors! It's Sir Dom's squad, with messages from my Lord Wyldon." 

Kel felt both surprise and pleasure run through her. She had always enjoyed Dom's company, especially of late. She wondered what had brought him to New Hope instead of the usual courier. Glancing at her companions, she noted Neal's excited look and Joren's curious one. Neal was already leaving the table, ready to greet his cousin. Kel rose to follow.

As they entered the common yard, Kel noticed that many residents were standing near the gate, talking excitedly. Many of the refugees were fond of Dom and his men and liked to greet them when they came. Pushing past the throng of onlookers, Kel reached Dom's squad. He and his men were handing their horses off to the stable boys. Their mounts, tired from the journey, were following obediently behind their caretakers. Kel watched Dom laugh and grin as he shared easy conversation with some of his men. Neal, who had beaten Kel to the gate, was already stepping in front of Dom. She watched the cousins embrace and slap each other on the back in greeting. Dom himself was a little disheveled from the journey, but otherwise neat in his Third Company uniform. His dark hair was windblown and his blue eyes danced mischievously. Stepping up to greet him herself, Kel smiled. "Hello, Dom. What brings you to New Hope? Delivering a message hardly warrants an armed escort."

Turning from Neal, Dom grinned, his teeth flashing against his tanned face. "Kel! It's great to see you again!" He stepped forward to give her a brief hug. "Lord Raoul sent us, and since we were already heading this way, we were given the missives that were to be delivered to New Hope." Winking, he motioned to Neal. "You've been keeping Meathead in line, I hope. You know he needs a keeper."

Kel grinned in response. "Of course. Why do you think Lord Wyldon put me as his superior? Not just anyone could keep him from getting into trouble."

Neal sulked in annoyance. "I _am_ right here you know. You don't have to talk around me. I'm not a child."

Dom grinned, his eyes twinkling with merriment. "That is highly debatable, cousin Meathead. I'm sure there are many who would disagree with that fact."

Joren who had been watching from the sidelines unnoticed, stepped out. "I, for one would attest to Queenscove's childlike attitude."

Dom, surprised by the unexpected comment, turned to face the man who had interrupted. Giving Joren an inquiring look, he glanced at Kel before returning his gaze to the man. "Really. I don't believe we've met. Just who might you be?" Dom's voice stayed friendly, but curious.

Joren smiled sardonically before lifting a brow. "You've probably heard of me." Bowing, he greeted Dom formally. "I'm Joren of Stone Mountain, one of the most chivalrous knights in all of Tortall."

Dom's face remained confused for a moment, before recognition hit. Frowning, he looked from Neal to Kel. "I know who you are." Pausing he stared at Joren, his friendly gaze had become hostile. "What are you doing here?"


	13. A Confusing Situation

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter**** 13**

**A Confusing Situation**

Joren shrugged at the question. Dom had obviously heard of Joren's less than exemplary reputation. He watched the soldier's face, which alternated between confusion at the situation and animosity towards Joren. The sergeant looked from Kel to Neal seeking answers. 

He repeated his question. "I don't understand. What is he doing here? Kel? Neal?"

Kel was the first to answer, her voice and manner calm. She stepped forward slightly. "Joren's here because his patrol was ambushed just east of here and New Hope was the closest refuge. Only four of his men survived the attack. He's staying here until he receives new orders from Lord Wyldon."

Dom seemed confused by Kel's even tone. She showed no hostility towards Joren, just indifference to the situation. Even though she was known for her emotionless face, he had expected her to be a little on edge. Instead, she showed no signs of tension. He looked at his cousin, Neal. Instead of glaring at Stone Mountain as was his usual expression towards one as detested as Joren, the healer was standing beside him, and for the most part, relaxed and at ease. Obviously, he wasn't really on guard around the fellow. Was he missing something? He was sure Joren was the man Kel and Neal had hated. Addressing Neal, Dom's confusion was apparent in his tone. "But isn't he the guy you wrote about, Neal. The one who had it in for Kel? I was sure you said his name was Joren of Stone Mountain."

Neal gave Joren a wry look. "His name _was_ Joren of Stone Mountain. This is the very same man." Neal amended his statement. "Well, not _exactly_ the same. There is a marked difference in him."

Neal's words only seemed to befuddle Dom even more. "Will someone explain what is going on?"

Kel sighed. She hated explanations. Meeting Dom's eyes, she tried to make her point clear. "Joren _was_ that man, but he's different now."

Dom stared at Kel for a few moments, before shaking his head. His face lost its enmity and became cautiously amused. "So I'm not supposed to hate him then?"

Kel smiled at the question. She glanced at Joren before answering. He stood very still watching the conversation with keen interest. He met Kel's gaze. His eyes were cool and she could see no indications of his thoughts. Turning to Dom, she replied. "You're not supposed to hate him. You're supposed decide for yourself what you think of Sir Joren by getting to know him. What you know of his past shouldn't influence your judgment now."

Dom nodded slowly. "Alright."

Kel could see there was still some confusion, but he seemed to understand. Dom's gaze held acceptance for the explanation, but there were still questions in his eyes. Dom turned to Joren and met his gaze evenly.

Bowing, he introduced himself. "Sergeant Domitan of Masbolle. Third Company of the King's Own. I apologize for the misunderstanding."

Joren felt odd. Despite Kel's unguarded attitude toward him recently, he'd almost expected both her and Neal to recite his whole sordid story. Instead, she'd given him a chance to prove himself worthy. Pleasure at her gesture wound through him, but he didn't let it show. He inclined his head, his stance wary, as he replied to the sergeant's introduction. "Likewise."

Dom's gaze was speculative as he assessed Joren. He was silent for a moment, his face scrutinizing. Joren could tell he wasn't sure to think of him. The soldier was struggling with his instinctive dislike for a man who had been both Kel's and Neal's enemy. Carefully, as if he wasn't quite sure if his gesture would be welcomed, Dom threw out an invitation. "We should have a drink sometime, get to know each other. Maybe then I could find out if I like you or not."

Joren felt his lips twitch at Dom's candor. At least the man was honest. He'd half expected Dom to dance around the issue. Giving a slight nod, Joren returned the favor. "Maybe I'll figure out if I like you or not too."

Dom nodded soberly, though his eyes gave him away. They were filled with both amusement and a grudging respect. Turning to Kel, he motioned to himself and his men.

"If you don't mind, we'd all like to get to cleaned up and get some food in our bellies. We haven't had anything since midday."

Kel nodded an assent. "Of course. There's still plenty of food in the mess hall. You and your men can bunk in your usual rooms."

Grinning roguishly, Dom saluted smartly. "Yes, Sir Keladry." Signaling to his men, he strode off, heading for his quarters. His men quickly dispersed, happy at the idea of food and a warm bed. Kel watched him go, satisfied with the outcome for the almost confrontation. Dom could have refused to accept Joren.

Neal interrupted Kel's contemplative thoughts. "That went remarkably well." He paused for a moment. "Well almost anyway." Kel silently agreed, her gaze on Dom's retreating back.

Remembering Joren, Kel turned to him, but he had left. Gazing around, she finally spotted him walking off. His head was down, and he seemed to be absorbed in his thoughts. She watched his departing form until he stepped out of sight behind a few buildings. Deciding to let him alone, she looked back at Neal. He was eying her curiously.

"Do you know why Dom's here? All he said to me was that Lord Raoul had sent him. Any idea what he meant by that?"

Kel shook her head. "I don't know. I was going to ask Dom, but then Joren's entrance distracted me. I'll ask him after he's had a decent meal. It's probably not urgent, else wise he would have had said something sooner." She watched Neal frown thoughtfully, his green eyes narrowed in concentration.

"You're most likely right. Well, I'm off. I've got some paperwork to finish." At the thought, he grimaced. Neal was well known for his dislike of paper shuffling. He hated to sit at a desk for very long. If he wasn't up and doing something, he often became restless.

Kel made a shooing motion with her hand. "I wouldn't want to keep you from that very important task. Mithros knows you love writing reports."

Neal glared at her before turning on his heel and heading for his quarters. He knew it was useless to combat Kel's sarcasm. She always remained such straight-faced, that he often wondered if she was serious. Resigning himself to a dull night of desk work, Neal trudged wearily away.

13-13-13-13-13-13-13-13-13

Kel had just finished giving Hoshi a good brushing, when she heard the stall door creak open. Turning, she came face to face with a grinning Dom. His hair was still mussed, but his blue eyes held a familiar twinkle. He leaned against the stall door, at ease with himself. Kel felt an answering smile tug at her lips.

"You're keeping as busy as ever. Do you ever relax, or does that apply to everyone but you?" As he teased her, his grin never faltered.

Kel protested his accusation in the same light tone, but her face remained imperturbable. "I do relax. I just do it away from pestering sergeants of the Kings Own."

Dom's mouth twitched. "I haven't seen one around lately. I guess you're excuse doesn't apply in this situation."

Kel's mask slipped and she laughed lightly. Shaking her head, she walked past him. Closing the stall door behind her, she headed for the tack room. Kel glanced over her shoulder, noting that he followed. "I've missed your jests, Dom." Pausing, she cast a look at him curiously. "What are you doing here anyway? I never really had the chance to ask you in all the confusion."

Dom smiled, his mouth tilting up at the corners. "It's not anything important. Raoul decided that we'd earned a break and sent us to New Hope. He thought we might enjoy seeing some of our old comrades."

Kel nodded. "I'd thought as much. You didn't seem all that concerned when you arrived." Continuing toward the tack room, she walked easily beside Dom. When she reached to door, she walked through. Putting the brush away, she closed the door behind her as she left. "I know Meathead will enjoy your company. He's always complaining of boredom around here now that the war is over."

Dom gave her a questioning glance. "What about you? Don't you enjoy my company?"

Kel stopped and stared at him in surprise. "Of course. I just meant—"

Dom grinned again. "I know what you meant. I was just jesting."

Kel gave him a mildly reproving glance. Heading back to Hoshi's stall for a last check, she remarked dryly, "Sometimes I wonder if you're serious about anything."

Dom chuckled. "I'm serious." He waited a moment. "When I have to be, anyway."

Kel sighed. "You're acting more and more like Neal every time I see you. I'm beginning to wonder if you're any different from our beloved Meathead."

Looking insulted, Dom put a hand dramatically to his chest. "How could you compare the two of us? I'm not anything like Meathead! If anything, I'd say we were opposites."

Kel gazed at him calmly. She ignored his statement of disagreement. In a perfectly serious voice, she flippantly replied, "Maybe you're really twins instead of cousins. That would explain the similarity in personality."

Dom laughed effortlessly. His expression changing from affronted to amused. "I give up. That notion is too dreadful to consider. I know when I've been bested." Bowing with a flourish, Dom grinned. "I concede this match as your victory, lady knight."

Solemnly, Kel tilted her head in acknowledgment. "Thank you, kind sir. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm for bed." Turning, Kel strode to Hoshi's stall. Seeing that the mare was comfortable for the night, she gave a Dom a careless wave before heading back to her quarters.

Dom's soft laughter followed her. "Good night, Protector of the Small."


	14. Mixed Feelings

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter**** 14**

**Mixed Feelings**

Joren was brooding. He knew why. It was simple really. His problem was Kel, or more precisely, Kel's friend Dom. He had seen the camaraderie between them, the easily exchanged smiles. Jealousy had overwhelmed him. When he'd seen the way the sergeant had looked at Kel, he had stiffened. It had taken him by surprise. He hadn't realized how important Kel had become to him. It was an odd emotion for him to experience. Joren of Stone Mountain jealous over The Lump? It was ridiculous really, but at the same time it made a perfect kind of sense. He had come to expect the way she had accepted him and respected him. Though she didn't often smile at him, there was a relaxed air about her whenever she was near him. It was if she had dropped her guard and became at ease, even friendly. The idea itself was odd; Joren friends with Keladry of Mindelan. It was a tenuous friendship, but a friendship nonetheless.

Joren actually _liked_ Kel as a companion. He liked her subdued sense of humor and the way she'd always had some dry retort to his sarcastic comments. He admired her ingrained sense of honor and the diplomatic way she handled disagreements. Then there was her kindness. It showed through everywhere he looked. There was Tobe, the young boy she'd rescued from an abusive guardian. He'd heard the stories. A few of the residents had been talking about it a few nights back.

Then there was New Hope. All of the refugees respected her and revered her. They loved her. She was their leader and he had never seen them show but the utmost regard for her. There was an easy affection in their voices whenever they mentioned Kel's name. He heard the same things from everyone. Loyal. Hardworking. Honorable. Kind. She was never haughty or arrogant. Instead she was almost humble. She treated the refugees as equals, not servants that were to obey her every command.

Joren heaved a disgusted sigh. He was pathetic. Here he was, mooning over Kel, when he didn't even deserve her. He was the last man that Kel would ever consider as more than a friend. Domitan of Masbolle was perfect for her. He was liked and respected and she liked and respected him back. When had this happened? When had he become besotted with Keladry of Mindelan? He didn't know, but depression weighed heavily on him. He knew he could never have her. He was lucky to be her friend. She could never love him, not with his past sins hanging over her head. How could she forget the way he had treated her? She couldn't. He would just have to ignore his burgeoning feelings for her. Joren felt himself harden. Determination asserted itself. He wouldn't let her see it. He couldn't. It would destroy what little friendship they had. From now on he would distance himself from her. It was the only solution he knew.

14-14-14-14-14-14-14

It was morning. Kel read the reports that had come in from Fort Mastiff. She noted that Lord Wyldon had approved the supplies she'd requested. Satisfied she moved on. Her eyes caught on Joren's name. Her breath caught and a feeling of dread stole over her. Here were the orders for Joren's re-assignation. He would leave New Hope. Why did Joren's departure, sadden her? It was true that he wasn't her enemy anymore, but neither was he a close friend. If anything she should be relieved. No matter what he had become, he would always be the boy who had made her page years miserable. He'd tried his best to make her fail. From sabotaging her equipment to spreading rumors, his goal had always been to get rid of The Lump.

Kel sat back in her chair. How did she feel about him? Did she merely tolerate him or was there something more? Kel remembered the tense moment in the stables. Their eyes had met and something tangible had passed between them. Instead of acknowledging it, she'd pushed it back, refusing to believe that she could be attracted to one such as Joren. She'd seen the way his eyes had iced over when she'd backed away. He had stiffened, becoming cool and remote, where moments before they had shared an easy banter. Her rejection had hurt him. She knew that now. She hadn't meant to. The electricity that had spiked between them had surprised her and she had instinctively stepped away from it, confused.

Shaking herself from the memories, Kel went back to the report, steeling herself against the impending orders. Swiftly she began to read, her eyes traveling the paper, assimilating the information. Lord Wyldon sends his regrets for Joren's lost men. He understands that due to the circumstances, no one was really at fault. He commends Kel for taking the situation in hand and avoiding conflict with an old enemy. She had requested a few more men for patrol, since many had been reassigned away from New Hope. Request granted. Kel's heart stilled at Wyldon's next words.

_Despite your differences, Sir Joren and his men are to be reassigned to New Hope on a permanent basis until he is needed elsewhere. If there are any problems with this arrangement, you may send a report detailing the situation. _

Kel stopped reading as relief filled her. Joren wouldn't be reassigned. Instead, he would serve under her as part of the new replacements for her patrol. Closing her eyes, Kel sat back in her chair. She couldn't keep her giddy feelings of relief from overflowing. Joren would stay. That was all that mattered.

14-14-14-14-14-14-14

Joren was riding his stallion, Lancelot. He had woken up from a restless sleep, unable to shake the previous day's happenings from his mind. He had walked around the battlements, hoping to soothe his uneasy spirit, but his body had continued to itch for release. He had finally decided that a hard gallop would do him well. He'd saddled Lancelot and taken off, heading deep into the woods. They had started out at a good gallop, but now he and his horse had slowed to a leisurely amble.

Joren's dark horse picked its way to a spring that bubbled and frothed over a bed of rocks, its cheerful sound soothing. Before he had left, Tobe had directed him to this stream, claiming it was akin to the Fountain of Youth. Dismounting, Joren stared at it, silently agreeing. There was a certain carefree quality to it that lifted a person's spirit. Joren felt his heart become lighter, more at ease. Closing his eyes, he lifted his face to the treetops, trying to draw the peaceful sounds of nature into himself. Here he could put his problems behind him without worrying about reality. Ground tying Lancelot, he walked to the edge of the water and stared into its crystalline depths. He wondered if Kel would've enjoyed the spot. Something told him she would. His thoughts of Kel painfully reminded Joren of his internal anguish. Pushing back the misery that threatened to rise, he walked to a thick oak that looked as old as time. He placed one hand on the column and wondered at its age. How much had it seen? It sheer size suggested decades and decades of wisdom. Smiling at the thought, Joren shook his head. When had become such a philosopher? Setting his back to the rough bark, Joren tilted his head against the trunk. He drew up one knee and draped his wrist over it. Joren closed his sky blue eyes and let his muscles relax one by one. Taking a deep breath, he let his mind ease. The soft sounds of water gurgling, birds singing, and leaves rustling, calmed Joren. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

14-14-14-14-14-14-14

Kel was looking for Joren. She had finished reading the reports and wanted to tell him that he would be staying at New Hope. She had checked everywhere, from the mess hall to the carpenter's project. He wasn't to be found. Annoyance threatened, but Kel shook it off. It wasn't as if he had to always be on hand. He was free to go wherever he pleased. Glancing around in frustration, Kel walked into the stables hoping he'd be there. When she came to Lancelot's stall, she found it empty. Joren must have taken him for a ride, but where did he go? Turning away, she almost collided with Tobe. Startled, she stepped back.

"Looking for Sir Joren my lady?" Tobe had his hands stuffed into his pockets. There were pieces of straw sticking out of his hair and his clothes were covered in horsehair and other unidentifiable substances.

Frowning, Kel answered. "Actually, I am. Do you know where is? I have new orders to give him."

Tobe grinned. "Aye my lady. He took off this morning on that black stallion of his. He was as jittery as bug. Said he wanted to work off some restless energy."

Kel crossed her arms. "Do you happen to know where he went?"

Tobe gave her a sly smile and shuffled his feet. "Mayhap I do."

Kel's hazel eyes narrowed. "Tobe—"

Tobe laughed. "I was just jestin' my lady. He headed for that spring, you know the one the refugees like to visit? It's a nice spot. He said was looking for someplace to relax. When I told him of it, he said it sounded perfect."

Kel stood undecided for a moment before finally making up her mind. Gesturing to Tobe she pointed to Hoshi. "I'll just have to go after him then. Could you saddle Hoshi for me, Tobe? I'll be back. I just need to run to my office for something."

Tobe looked up at her curiously. "Of course, Lady Kel."

He looked like he wanted to say more, but Kel didn't wait for him. Thanking him, she walked back to her office. As she retrieved the personal orders that were addressed to Joren, she also picked up her sword from her quarters. You never know when you'd run into trouble after all. When she arrived back at the stables, Tobe had Hoshi saddled and ready. Kel thanked him again before leading Hoshi to the gate. Mounting up, she set off for the spring.


	15. New Truths

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 15**

**New Truths**

Kel rode Hoshi toward the spring. She knew that she was acting odd, riding all the way out to find Joren when the orders could wait, but for some reason she was compelled to speak to him. She wanted to see him, tell him he would be staying. Kel wondered if he would be happy. He seemed to like it at New Hope, but maybe he'd rather be on patrol at the borders. Thinking back to her conversation with Tobe, she remembered him saying that Joren had been restless. She wondered why. Was he tired of New Hope? Did he miss the action, the fighting, that you often received on patrol? Shaking her head Kel let her thoughts disperse. For now, it didn't matter. Orders were orders after all.

Kel slowed Hoshi to an easy trot as she neared the spring. She remembered visiting it briefly once before. The cool, clear, water had been peaceful and she remembered how the small stream could be both tranquil and cheerful.

Slowing Hoshi again, Kel eased her to a walk as she entered the small clearing where the stream bubbled over the rocks. Right away, she spotted Joren's dark horse. Lancelot was cropping grass contentedly. Joren had ground tied him within easy reach of the spring. Glancing around, she looked for Joren himself. When her eyes found him at the base of the large oak tree, she stared in surprise. Joren was sleeping. He was sitting comfortably against the broad oak, one knee drawn up. His head was tilted back and his eyes closed peacefully. White blond hair fell to just past his ears, shaggy and in need of a cut. He looked innocent, angelic. His usual sarcastic smile was gone, his mouth relaxed in sleep. Kel stared at him wonderingly. She had never seen him so unguarded. It was as if she had happened on a fairy prince, instead of the guarded Joren of Stone Mountain.

Ground tying Hoshi not far from Lancelot, Kel walked cautiously to him. Up close, he looked soft, almost childlike. But that was wrong. He was anything but a child. She'd seen his well-toned muscles and the easy way he handled a sword. Joren was all man. Hesitating, she bent down in front of him. Should she wake him? He looked so peaceful. Kel stared at a single stand of blond silk that had fallen over his forehead. Gently, almost reverently, she brushed it back, her fingers trembling. Pulling back quickly, Kel watched closely to see if she had wakened him. Satisfied he was still fast asleep, Kel sat back on her heels. She wondered what to do. She couldn't just leave. Despite the easing of tensions between Scanran and Tortall, there were still pockets of Scanrans who refused to accept defeat. Joren was too vulnerable out here alone and asleep. He could easily be taken by surprise. Thoughtful, Kel stared at his face.

Joren woke slowly. Something had disturbed him, but he wasn't sure what. His eyes were still closed and his mind still sluggish from a restful sleep. The last thing he remembered was sitting down against the base of the giant oak. He must have fallen asleep soon after. He hadn't received much sleep the night before and must have been more tired than he had realized. Coming fully awake, Joren opened his eyes and stared into Kel's dreamy hazel gaze. There was surprise in both, as they studied each other silently. Kel's face showed both astonishment and embarrassment.

Nervously, she spoke. "I didn't mean to wake you. I thought you were asleep. I was jus—" Kel's hesitant explanation was stopped by Joren. He laid a single finger against her lips. Too shocked by his touch, she quieted and stared in surprise. Her lips trembled. Slowly, he moved his hand to cup her cheek. His icy blue eyes studied her face for a moment, before he gently nudged her towards him.

Kel was frozen with shock. She had always been the apathetic one, but now her emotions seemed to overwhelm her. Joren had stopped her words with a touch. Staring into blue eyes that were still soft with sleep, she saw the feelings she had for him mirrored in his own eyes. As he began to pull her toward him she found herself responding. Her eyes fluttered closed and her hands came up to rest on his chest, palms pressed firm against the pads of muscle. Gently, hesitantly, Joren's mouth met hers. His touch was feather-light, almost nonexistent. Then slowly, his thumb stroking her cheek, he deepened the kiss. After a moment, he pulled back, his eyes searching her face.

Kel opened her eyes slowly as if savoring the kiss. She had never been kissed like that. Cleon had stolen many kisses from her, but nothing like Joren's. Something about him had sparked a response in her that she had never felt before. Gazing into his eyes she saw the questions there, and along side them was a tentative hope. Gradually, Kel became in control of her emotions. Raising a hand to her lips, she sat back, her eyes still on Joren's. Realization at what had happened hit her fully and Kel ducked her head in self-consciousness. Joren had kissed her—and she had let him. He hadn't taken her by surprise, but instead given her time to pull away. And she hadn't. Kel had welcomed his kiss. She was drawn to Joren, as she had never been to anyone else before. Lifting her head, she met his gaze. Her long silence had dimmed the hope in his eyes. She could see the ice that was begin to frost over them. His face became still, like stone

Blandly, without inflection he broke the silence. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I—"

Without thinking she reacted. "Don't." Surprised by her own voice, which was low and full of emotion, Kel stopped for a moment. Then gathering her courage, she continued more smoothly. "Please Joren. Don't do that."

He stilled and his eyes searched her face. His voice was cool as he spoke. "I don't know what you mean."

Kel could see him pulling back. Did he regret their kiss? No. She'd seen his feelings in his face, his eyes. His remoteness now was a defense. What was he afraid of? Hadn't he seen the same emotions in her hazel ones? She could tell from his face that he thought she was even now wishing it hadn't happened. She wouldn't let him. Impulsively, Kel leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. He didn't move for a moment and she was about to pull away when he kissed her back. An instant later they pulled apart again, but this time he kept her close against his chest. The ice in his eyes had melted.

Reaching up to touch her face again, he traced the line of her cheek with a finger. Softly, he began to speak. "Kel, I hadn't intended on kissing you. When I woke and you were there, so close, something in me snapped and all my well thought out strategies disappeared. My original plan had been to stay away you know. I knew I didn't deserve you and you had Dom." He let his hand drop and he turned his face away. "I saw the way you look at each other. I shouldn't have kissed you. I had no right." Now his voiced was laced with frustration and self-disgust. Joren realized he had forgotten about Dom. His hopes crashed. He couldn't have her, not that he'd deserved her to begin with. Pushing her away, he stood and paced over to the stream. He stared down at the smoothly flowing water, not really seeing it. Closing his eyes he continued. There was weariness now, as if he'd resigned himself to the situation. "Go to your Dom. I won't touch you again."

Kel was confused. What was he talking about? Her and Dom? They were friends yes, but nothing more. Before Joren, Kel had thought that maybe she and Dom would become close. Not anymore. Though she'd avoided it, she now knew that she cared for Joren.

Kel spoke softly, her voice calm. "There is no Dom and me, Joren. We're just friends."

He interrupted, impatient with her words. "Maybe you're only friends now, but I can see in the way he looks at you and that he wants more. A man doesn't look at a woman like that unless he cares, deeply."

Kel walked over to him and touched his shoulder gently. He stiffened beneath her touch and Kel dropped her hand. "That may be, but who's to say I return his feelings? What if I care for someone else?"

Joren turned and faced her, his eyes confused. "Who else could there be? It isn't Queenscove is it? I should hope that you'd have better tast—"

"What if it's you?" Her quiet words seemed to shock him. Recovering quickly, he denied the possibility.

"It can't be me, not after what I've done. I can't change the past, no matter how much I might want to. You deserve better. That kiss was a mistake and I'm sorry."

Kel's voice was even and firm. "I'm not."

Without another word, she turned. Walking quickly to Hoshi, she mounted. When she met his eyes again her Yamani mask was in place. "You've new orders from Lord Wyldon. You're to serve at New Hope under my command." Taking the missive from her saddlebags, she tossed it to him. Joren caught it deftly, his eyes never leaving hers. Kel held his gaze steadily for a moment. Then without a word of farewell, she was gone.


	16. Frustrating Thoughts

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter**** 16**

**Frustrating Thoughts**

Kel was angry. Angry with Joren. She felt frustration and disappointment bubble up, but decided she wouldn't let it control her. She had a job to do—the running of New Hope. As her mind flew back to the kiss—or kisses with Joren, a flush crept up into her cheeks. She shouldn't have let it happen, despite her declaration to Joren of not being sorry. When Joren had started to pull her toward him, her mind had stopped and at that moment, all she could think of was what his mouth against hers would feel like. She hadn't weighed in the consequences, especially his ridiculous argument that he wasn't good enough for her. And that Dom was a better man. It was true that she cared for Dom, but in this last week she'd come to care for Joren more. She couldn't explain exactly why. Maybe his sarcastic tongue, hidden kindness, and innate pride were a part of it, but it was the whole person she cared for, not the individual qualities. As Kel rode Hoshi back into New Hope, she cast her thoughts of Joren away. There was work to be done and thinking of Joren, no matter how pleasing it could be, would not help her any.

Kel dismounted when she came inside the gate. She led her mare back to the stables, where Tobe took her. Nodding a hello to her, he eyed her curiously, wondering about her ride to find Joren.

"Did you find the spring and Sir Joren, my lady?" Tobe posed the question tentatively. He'd seen the pensive look in her eyes and he knew that it could mean trouble.

Kel gazed at him distractedly, then as if mentally shaking off a thought, she concentrated more fully on his question. "Yes Tobe, I found them both fine. Thanks for taking Hoshi. I would brush her down myself, but I've some things to take care of."

Tobe grinned. "It's no trouble. Hoshi is a favorite of mine with such a sweet nature."

Kel gave him a grateful smile before striding off for headquarters, her thoughts already elsewhere. Tobe watch her go, then turned to Hoshi. "Now what put that distracted look in Lady Kel's eye? I'm sure you know the whole story." Tobe smiled and led Hoshi to her stall, presumably to hear the whole thing.

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Joren was confused. He was riding back to New Hope after contemplating what had happened at the springs. What had he been thinking when he'd kissed Kel? He could put partial blame on his half-wakefulness, but he knew better. Joren had known exactly what he was doing. For some reason, he'd lost all sense and thrown caution to the wind. Instead of receiving his kiss, Kel should have slapped him. _He_ would have slapped him. When they'd broken apart and Kel had been silent for a long moment, Joren had been sure she was going to tell him he was a fool and to never touch her again. So without waiting for her words, he'd told her that he was sorry, that he didn't know what had come over him, but she'd interrupted, first with words, then with a kiss to seal them. She had wanted to let him know that she was serious. And he'd believed for a short while that he could have her. That he, Joren of Stone Mountain, former enemy, could become the man Kel loved. Then he'd remembered Dom, and the way they'd looked together. When it came down to it, Joren himself was not even a consideration. Dom was honorable, kind and liked Kel for herself. The sergeant would be perfect for her and Joren knew it. Pushing her away had been the right thing to do. It didn't lessen the hurt, but for most of his life he'd been selfish. He refused to ever be that again. Kel's declaration that she cared for him, not Dom was foolish. She couldn't be thinking straight. Of course she cared for Dom! Joren himself had seen it with his own eyes. He'd seen love in their gazes and in the easy way they were with each other.

Closing his eyes, Joren remembered her parting words. She'd said she wasn't sorry. Her words had lifted his spirit, but he'd known that they would change soon enough, despite what she thought now. Joren would stay away from Kel and she would be happy with Dom. That was the way it had to be, but sticking to his plan would be difficult. The missive Kel had given to him had affirmed her statement that he would now serve at New Hope. Under Kel. Joren cursed fate for throwing them together yet again. How could he keep his distance if they were forced to work in the same camp? It was no matter. Joren knew his own mind. He was determined to make sure Kel was happy and it wasn't with him. He ignored the flutter of happiness he felt with his new orders and its proximity to Kel.

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The sun was setting, its light fading slowly below the horizon. Kel watched silently as she gazed over the battlements. The sky was filled with the soft hues of autumn; its bleeding colors cast a peaceful atmosphere to the evening. Kel was anything but peaceful. Throughout the whole day she had thrown herself into her work, determined to forget Joren and his kiss. She hadn't stopped until now, realizing that it was a futile effort. No matter how hard she'd tried, her mind had constantly wandered back to the spring where she'd shared a kiss with Joren. All of her Yamani training had failed her. Why couldn't she get him out of her head? She knew she cared for Joren, but was it something more? Something infinitely more binding? Did she _love_ Joren of Stone Mountain? But that couldn't be right. How could you love someone when by all rights, you'd known him only a few days? The Joren of the past wasn't the same man as the Joren she knew now. All the time she'd spent with the cold, hard Joren of her page years were negligible. They meant nothing. Love. She remembered loving Cleon. That had been a comfortable, easy love. She'd known him for years before they'd ever become more. She hadn't felt the panic then. Yes she'd been fluttery, but that had been nothing like the volcano of emotions she was feeling now. Why was this so different? Why couldn't she forget him?

"Copper for you thoughts."

Startled, Kel turned and faced Dom. He was leaning easily against the thick stone wall, an easy smile on his face. His eyes studied her intently, the irises darkened to a deep midnight blue. He was dressed casually, his uniform gone. She hadn't really talked to him much, except for their conversation in the stables. Kel had seen him around New Hope, but at the time she'd been busy and only spared him a wave. Now she studied him, looking for the love Joren claimed he had for her. Maybe she was wrong, or maybe she just wasn't looking in the right place, but all she could see was an easy friendship, strengthened by their trials of battle throughout the war.

"Hello Dom." Kel smiled tiredly back. She was exhausted from her work-filled day. "I was just admiring the sunset."

Dom lifted a brow. "Pretty heavy thoughts for a sunset. Were you trying to figure out why the Gods made the sun set in the west instead of the east?"

Kel laughed lightly. "Nothing so strenuous as that. I was only trying to decide why the sun was yellow and orange instead of blue or green. I think it should have been blue. What do you think?"

Dom grinned. "I sense a foil for my original meaning. I don't suppose you'll tell me though, will you? You always were the quiet one, Kel. Never seemed to want to share the burden, no matter how heavy it was." His face had become sober, his eyes serious and direct.

Kel gazed at him solemnly. "Don't worry. It's nothing as perilous as my treasonous journey through Scanran, I promise." She ended her statement with a smile, hoping to show him that she was only teasing.

Dom didn't take the bait and his face remained thoughtful. "Your thoughts may not be physically dangerous, but what of emotionally? Not all dangers are at the point of a sword or arrow. There are many to be had that are aimed at the heart, and can be just as painful."

Kel viewed him with surprise. Dom was more insightful and perceptive than she had thought. He'd seen right through her mask and to the core of her thoughts. Dom always played the easy-going cousin who loved to joke and trick, but beneath that exterior was an observant man who missed nothing.

"I hadn't realized you could see right through my mask. Maybe I should be more careful around you. I wouldn't want to give anything away."

Dom gave her a sad smile. He knew she wouldn't tell him of her thoughts. It would be too much like opening herself up for pity or sympathy and _that_ she did not need. "Of course not. The Protector of the Small without her mask? Where would the world be without you there, stoic and ready to take on its problems?"

Kel gave him a narrow-eyed glance. "Are you poking fun at me Domitan of Masbolle? I may just have to get out my sword and challenge you to fight."

Dom cringed in mock fear. "I've already heard of your _lesson_ with Neal and Merric. I'd thank you to leave me alone. I know when I've overstepped my bounds."

Kel merely watched him with amusement. Dom's presence kept her from thinking of Joren too much.

Dom, finished with his act, held out a hand with an exaggerated bow. "If my lady wishes, we could retire to the mess hall. It's past time to eat and I know you skipped midday meal. Neal told me you never showed and that he had the cooks watch for you."

Kel frowned. "Why can't that man mind his own business? It's not like I spy on him all the time." Taking Dom's hand, she allowed herself to be led to the mess hall, all the while grumbling about nosy friends.


	17. Pain

**Unexpected Love**

"_**We come to love not by**_

_**finding a perfect person, but**_

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 17**

**Pain**

Everyone was finishing their dinner. Easy laughter floated around the table as Dom told a story about Neal and one of his more embarrassing moments. It had something to do with a being dunked in a horse trough. Kel herself was relaxed and listening with half an ear to the conversation. Her mind had wandered back to Joren. Had he already had dinner? Had he even come back to New Hope after their scene at the springs? Of course he had. After all, it wasn't as if he had anywhere else to go. Then there were the new orders. What did he think of them? Was he upset, angry with Lord Wyldon for placing him at New Hope? Kel shook her head ruefully. What she doing? Thinking of Joren again? It was ridiculous! How could one man make you so half-witted that you couldn't think of anything else? Disgusted with herself, Kel began to listen to Dom's story with more interest.

"That's when he fell. You should have seen it! He was covered in manure from his earlier slip and when that horse backed him into the trough, it was the last straw! He began ranting of how the poor horse had planned the whole thing! If you ask me, Meathead deserved it. You know how childish he is, always blaming everyone but himself."

By now the table was roaring with laughter. Dom himself was chuckling, his bright blue eyes dancing with mirth. Neal on the other hand was glaring at Dom venomously. His angry green gaze was fixed on his cousin with deadly intent. His arms were crossed, and along with the anger, he had the most insulted look on his face. He looked as if he would leap the table any moment and challenge Dom to a duel. Kel herself smiled at the story. It was one of many that she'd heard from Dom. He always seemed to have a new one to tell at every gathering. She sometimes wondered if he made some of them up, but then she'd think of Neal and her thoughts would dissolve. She did love her best friend, but he was admittedly very clumsy and prone to embarrassing scenes.

Neal was now defending himself, saying that the horse had indeed had that knowing gleam in its eye, but instead of stopping the laughter, his protest promoted more. Drawn by all the noise, many of the residents had joined their group, laughing and shaking their heads upon hearing the story. Many had given Neal a good-natured pat on the back. Neal seemed to have finally had enough. He declared the lot of them uncouth and disrespectful, before stomping out of the mess, muttering about traitorous cousins.

The laughter eventually died down and the crowd of people began to slowly drift off. Soon the table was back to its original members, except for Neal of course. Merric and Dom were talking about patrols and what was the best method of leading one. Kel had gone back to what was left of her drink, sipping it slowly and interjecting a comment or two every once in a while. Dom's men, who had been a part of the original group made their excuses and left the table also. Before leaving the mess hall, Wolset tapped her shoulder and leaned down to speak in her ear.

"I don't know if you're aware of this, but there's a man with blond hair who's been keeping an eye on you for most of the evening. He's over in that corner." Wolset indicated the table with a jerk of his chin. "Friend of yours?" Grinning, the corporal saluted her briefly, before walking out of the hall.

Kel turned and looked in the corner that Wolset had pointed to. Her eyes met and locked with Joren's. He was seated on a bench facing her table. His shoulders were relaxed, hands resting on the tabletop comfortably beside an empty tray. He didn't seem embarrassed by her notice, if anything he became surer of himself. Neither of them broke the connection for a long moment. Just then, Merric interrupted with a question about her glaive. Forced to answer, Kel turned to him and replied. Merric seemed oblivious to her distracted demeanor, but not so with Dom. He was watching her curiously, his sapphire eyes a little too discerning. Aware of his intent gaze, Kel schooled her features into disinterested lines and calmly continued the conversation, answering Merric's persisting questions. Finally, when Merric seemed to grow tired of the subject, Kel chanced a look in Joren's direction. He was gone. Kel gazed around the hall to see if he was anywhere near. She was sure he had left, when she saw him step out of the hall, his stride purposeful. Quickly, Kel made her excuses and followed. She wasn't aware of Dom's observant gaze on her back.

Stepping out of the mess hall, Kel looked around for any sign of Joren. Frustrated when she didn't immediately see him, she walked forward, watching for his retreating back. Why was she following him anyway? What would she say? He thought he wasn't good enough. How could she change his mind? She'd already told him that she cared for him and he hadn't believed her. He thought Dom was perfect for her. Frustrated with herself and Joren, Kel gave up and headed for her quarters. She probably looked ridiculous anyway, straining her eyes to find him in the dark. She was startled when she turned a corner and collided with a hard body. Struggling to find her balance, Kel grabbed fistfuls of shirt, her hands sliding over smooth, firm muscle. Strong hands gripped her waist, righting her easily. Kel gasped for breath, having lost it in the run in. Hurriedly she began to apologize.

"I'm very sorry. I wasn't paying attention and I didn't see you coming." Kel tried to pull away, but the man continued to hold her soundly in his grasp.

A soft voice interrupted her. "That's alright Lady Kel, I wasn't paying attention either."

Startled, Kel stared up into familiar icy blue eyes as annoyed surprise and indescribable pleasure warred for dominance. The pleasure won out. "Joren!" Without thinking she stepped closer so their bodies brushed, her eyes on his face. She began to speak, her words unthinking. "I was just searching for you. I wanted to—"

Joren interrupted her again. "You were looking for me? Why?"

Realizing what she had been doing, Kel stepped back, embarrassed to realize she still held on to his tunic. She released him quickly, as if burned.

"I just wanted to talk. It wasn't anything important." Kel took another step back. She wouldn't make a fool of herself. Not again. "I should get to bed. It's getting late."

Joren was quiet for a moment. "You probably should." His voice was uncharacteristically weary and resigned, but his eyes betrayed nothing. Stepping back he gave her a brief wave. "G'night Kel." Turning he headed in the direction he had come. Kel stared after him. Disappointment filled her at the missed opportunity. Joren hadn't changed his mind. He seemed as sure of his decision as he had before, but his resigned tone as he'd let her go, said different. Did he regret pushing her away? She hoped so. Determined to change his mind, Kel started after him. When she caught up, he seemed surprised to see her. Before he could speak, Kel explained her presence.

"Our quarters are in the same building, remember?"

Joren nodded slowly in understanding. "Of course." He murmured quietly. His eyes shifted away from hers.

They walked in companionable silence until they came to their building. Joren silently held the door open for her. Kel walked through and waited for him to step inside, before she confronted him.

"Joren. Do you still think you aren't good enough?" Kel gazed at him seriously.

Joren seemed surprised by the unexpected question. Thrown off balance, he struggled to reply. "Kel, I thought we had settled this. You know why."

Kel shook her head. "No. I know that your opinion about yourself is skewed." Looking away for a moment, Kel tried to find the words that would change his mind. "Joren, I don't care about the past. We both know that it can't be changed, but that's over and done with now. Why should both of us have to suffer for it?"

Joren stiffened. There was an unyielding look on his face. His eyes had become icy with determination and his mouth had tightened in stubbornness. "I'm not going to change my mind on this Kel. Just drop it."

Kel felt pain spear her. She knew he wasn't trying to be hurtful, but his refusal to be with her struck something deep within her. Kel's voice became soft, even hesitant. "What if I said I was in love with you. I know I only said that I cared before, but I wasn't completely open about it. Now I am."

Kel watched as shock rippled over his face. He plainly hadn't been expecting such an admission. For a moment, Joren almost seemed to accept it, but then it was as if he had slammed the lid on his emotions. His face became closed to everything. If he had been stiff before, he was hard now.

"I'd have to tell you that I didn't feel the same." Joren's cool statement struck Kel hard. It was as if someone had dumped ice cold water over her. She shivered, suddenly aware of the cool disdain in his eyes. How could she have misjudged him so much? Had she imagined the emotion in him? She must have. His protests about Dom must have been just smoke. He didn't feel guilty, he just didn't feel the same. Her mouth suddenly dry, Kel asked him the one thing that bothered her.

"Then why did you say you wouldn't be with me because of Dom and your past?"

Joren's eyes grew colder. "I didn't want to hurt your feelings. If you thought it only because of Dom, then I could let you down easy without telling you I just wasn't interested." Joren's voice softened slightly. "I didn't want to hurt you."

Kel felt his cold manner begin to seep into her bones. "And the kiss?"

Joren's face, which had softened slightly moments before, became hard again. "It was just an experiment."

Kel closed her eyes painfully. She had determined to not make a fool of herself and yet she had managed to do it just the same. Joren didn't want her. He had tried to tell her, but she hadn't listened. Here she had been thinking about him and all along he had not even given her a second thought. She began to repeat over and over in her head. _I am stone. I am stone. I am stone._ When she opened her eyes, she had hidden the pain behind her Yamani mask.

"I'm sorry for confronting you like this. I misjudged the situation." Her voice was void of any emotion and she kept her eyes cast down. Turning, she walked slowly back to her quarters, careful not to hurry and give away the fact that he had hurt her. Deeply. When she reached her room, she carefully opened the door and readied for bed. Only when she was under the covers and seeking sleep, did she let the tears come.

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Joren stared after Kel's retreating back. His face lost its cold mask and he closed his eyes in regret. He hadn't wanted to hurt Kel, but it was the only way he knew to keep her away. He'd watched as his words had sunk in and how the pain in her face had been almost crippling, before she'd covered it with her Lump face. Her eyes would haunt him for a long time. The anguish he'd seen in their hazel depths made him feel like a monster. But it was all for her own good. Now she could forget him and make room for Dom. This was the way it had to be. Wasn't it?


	18. Gray World

**Unexpected Love**

"_**We come to love not by**_

_**finding a perfect person, but**_

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 18**

**Gray World**

Kel woke to the sound of birds outside her window. As she slowly surfaced from an exhausted sleep, she struggled to remember the events from the night before. Reaching a hand up to her face, she grimaced at the grittiness of her eyes. It was the result of crying herself to sleep. That's when the pain hit. A low moan escaped before she could stop it. Joren had rejected her. She had been a fool. How could she have mistaken his feelings? Was she so dull-witted, that she couldn't tell the difference between friendship and love? He must have been disgusted with her. She had followed him like a lovesick puppy, looking for devotion where there was none. Pressing the heels of hands to her eyes, Kel slowly began to push back the pain. She couldn't think of it anymore. It would overwhelm her and then she wouldn't be able to do her duty. She had New Hope to think about. When the pain in her heart became a dull ache she slowly placed her feet to the cool wood floor. Taking comfort in her routine, Kel readied for the day and ignored her empty heart.

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Joren was miserable. It had not even been a day and he was already pining for Kel. He known that it would be hard, but _Mithros_, did it have to hurt this much? Angrily, he stalked to headquarters. Kel had sent him a message saying that he was needed at her office. Her request had merely stated that it had to do with his new orders for New Hope. When he reached her door, Joren took a deep breath and forced himself to calm. He couldn't face her with his emotions so out of control. He had to be cool and precise in his manner toward her. Raising a hand, he knocked sharply on the door and waited for her summons. At her muffled, "Come in." he grasped the knob and turned it, opening the door and stepping inside. Joren was struck by how similar the situation mirrored his first encounter with Kel in her office. At the time he had been angry, but had hidden it under a mask of ice. It looked like history would repeat itself.

Kel was seated behind her heavy wood desk, which was littered with a variety of ink pots, paper, and heavy bound books. A green ledger was lying open in front of her, but she wasn't looking at it. Instead, her hands were tiredly rubbing her eyes. At the sound of the door closing behind him, Kel immediately sat up. As she raised her eyes to his, she stiffened, her face emotionless behind her Yamani mask. Her shoulders, which been slumped in weariness moments before, straightened. Her eyes which had only the day before been warm and welcoming, were cool and empty. Kel folded her hands neatly in front of her after beckoning him to the seat in front of the desk. Joren seated himself slowly, but didn't relax in the hard wood chair. He kept his body rigid and his face void of emotion. Kel didn't say anything for moment. Instead she simply studied the ledger in front of her, not really seeing it. Finally, she raised her head, and met his gaze coolly. Her empty eyes were like topaz, beautiful, but lifeless. Joren's heart protested to the dead look in them. Had he done that to her? Had he hurt her so far as to change her, make her someone unlike the Kel everyone knew and loved? Joren felt sick at the thought. Surely she hadn't cared for him that much? How could she? He was her former enemy after all. Joren had never been a warm and giving person and he never would be. How could Kel love him, especially with his dark past hanging over both of their heads?

Kel began to speak. "As you know, Lord Wyldon has assigned you to New Hope and therefore to me. As commander of this camp, I handle all the details concerning your orders. As a knight, you will be be put in command of your own patrol. New Hope has had a shortage of soldiers recently, but my Lord Wyldon assures me we will be getting some more placed here soon. Until then, you're to patrol with Sir Merric's men. You will answer to Sir Merric and I will not tolerate anything from you that would undermine his command. If I hear any complaints, you will regulated to cleaning the latrines—for a fortnight. As for your schedule you'll have to check with Sir Merric. He handles all the details. Are there any questions?"

Throughout her short speech, Kel's gaze had never wavered and her voiced had never deterred from its smooth and even tone. Even now, she waited for his response as if there nothing more between them than just commander and soldier. Joren swallowed the anger that threatened and clenched his fists in his lap. He mirrored her in his response, keeping himself aloof from his emotions.

"No, Lady Knight. No questions."

As he answered her, he stared into to her eyes hard, trying to find some wisp of the old Kel. He thought he saw a flicker of something, but it was fleeting, if it was ever there at all. Kel nodded her head and motioned to the door.

"You're dismissed then. You start tomorrow morning."

Without another word, Kel returned to her ledger and picked up her quill. Joren watched as she began to write. Swiftly, unable to bear the stillness between them, Joren walked out the door and closed it behind him with a snap. He needed a drink.

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Kel carefully set her quill down and ended her pretense of work. Lifting a hand, she ran it through her hair uncaring if it was mussed. Joren's presence had stirred her pain all to easily. At the sight of him standing in her doorway, her heart had clenched and her breathing had quickened. Loathe to give her weakness away, she'd taken a moment to calm herself until she'd been sure that her mask was firmly in place. Then she'd lifted her gaze to his. Joren's eyes had reflected the same emptiness as hers. The icy blue chips in his had met the cool stone in hers. Kel had looked for something in them, anything, but his eyes had remained barren of all emotion. Kel had seen the irony in it. Joren was like her in so many ways. They had both acted like automatons, emotionless and stiff. Kel and Joren had been formal towards each other, almost to the point of snootiness. Closing her eyes, Kel remembered the harsh way she'd given him his orders. And his punishment for causing trouble—a fortnight of cleaning the latrines. Where had she come up with that? Maybe, subconsciously, she'd wanted to punish him, as if to make up for the pain he had caused her, but the two could never compare. Cleaning human waste may be unpleasant, but the pain in her heart outweighed that discomfort a hundred fold. It was childish really. When had she become so petty? Kel sighed as she remembered his perfect angelic face with his icy blue eyes and silvery blond hair. Despite the frigid way he'd acted, his iciness hadn't taken away from his beauty, but instead enhanced it. Looking out her window all she saw was a bleak, gray world, the bright day unseen through Kel's eyes. Slowly, Kel began the agonizing process of pushing the pain away. Then she threw herself into her work.

18-18-18-18-18-18-18-18

Joren was staring unseeingly down at the table, a cup of ale in his hand. The bottle was sitting nearby, which he'd stolen from the cook. He'd wanted to drown the pain and lose himself, if only for a little while. He knew that he'd pay for it with a pounding headache, but at the moment that didn't matter. Lifting the large cup to his lips, he drank liberally from it, before letting it smack back down to the table. This was still his first cup, so he was still lucid, if a a bit fuzzy around the edges. The mess hall was deserted. It was the in-between time, before dinner and after lunch so he'd had the room to himself. He doubted he could have stood all the noise anyway. Lifting his cup again, he prepared to take another drink. He was interrupted by a familiar, if unwanted presence. Dom seated himself beside Joren and studied him with brows raised.

"You should have asked me to join you. I did say we should share a drink sometime." Dom's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "Though getting completely drunk wasn't quite what I'd had in mind."

Joren sneered at him elegantly. "That would sully your reputation as the estimable Domitan of Masbolle wouldn't it? We can't have that." Joren drank from his cup deeply, finishing off the ale. Lazily, he grabbed the bottle and poured more until it was full to the top again.

Dom grinned at the insult. "You know you are right. I am known as estimable aren't I? You'd better get me some of that ale then. If I'm too perfect, all the ladies will think I'm too good to be true. Having a tarnished image would also keep away the matchmaking mothers. The way I see it, its a win-win situation." Taking the cup from Joren, Dom drank heartily from it before returning it to his companion.

Joren stared at him with narrowed eyes. He thought about getting angry, but that would require too much effort. If Dom wanted to get sloshed, that was his prerogative. Maybe then Kel wouldn't think he was so great after all. Joren paused in his thinking. On the other hand, Joren was doing the exact same thing, so those two items would cancel each other out. Besides, the whole point of his plan was to give Kel the better man. He shouldn't want Dom to become 'tarnished' as he'd put it, in Kel's eyes. It would negate all of his effort.

Suddenly Joren didn't care. If Dom was ruined in Kel's eyes, so be it. He had tried to do the right thing and if he failed by no fault of his own, then he wouldn't deprive himself of the one thing in his life that he loved. Keladry of Mindelan. Turning to Dom, he passed him the full cup. Picking up the bottle for himself, he raised his drink in salute.

"To New Hope and its commander, the best in all of Tortall."

Dom raised his cup and clicked it against Joren's bottle. "To New Hope." He grinned and took a long drink from it as Joren mirrored him and did the same. Dom figured that whatever was bothering the poor man, would soon spill out. He decided to wait him out. After all, he could hold his ale easily and Joren had a head start on him. Soon, both men were passed out over their drinks.


	19. Dreams and Hangovers

**Unexpected Love**

"_**We come to love not by**_

_**finding a perfect person, but**_

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter**** 19**

**Dreams and Hangovers**

Joren was dreaming. He was sleeping fitfully after being dragged back to his quarters by someone who had sounded familiar, but through his alcohol-induced coma he'd not been sure exactly who. Tossing and turning in his bed, he'd long ago thrown the covers away.

_A thick, gray fog surrounded Joren. His footsteps were muffled and he couldn't see far in front of him. Reaching out a hand, he called out for someone, anyone in the desolate world. His voice didn't carry and instead, sounded almost disembodied. Fear rode him, but he pushed it away. After all, a Stone Mountain was never afraid. His father's voice rang in his head as he recalled his childhood. _

'_A Stone Mountain is fearless. I won't have a weakling boy for a son. Do you hear me? You're to be the best and I'll not settle for anything less.' _

_Joren remembered it well. How could he forget the sick fear in the pit of his stomach every time his father entered a room? He wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything, yet he was. He feared the very person who had declared that fear was not acceptable. But he hid it well. Joren had learned from experience that if he showed the slightest wavering in strength or manner, that his father would respond with violence and intolerance. Joren's resolve became more firm. He wouldn't give into the fear. That would be too cowardly and Joren of Stone Mountain was anything but a coward. Walking more quickly, he tried to escape the damp, clinging fingers of mist, but no matter how fast he walked, it never ended. He stopped and shivered, trying to find any landmark that he recognized. Suddenly, out of the fog stepped a figure, shrouded with a dark cloak. Slowly, pale hands reached up to push back the hood. Joren's throat closed as a dull sort of horror gripped him. It was Kel, but at the same time it wasn't. Instead of clear hazel eyes, there were dark pitiless orbs. Her usually soft mouth was twisted into a hard sneer of disgust. Her face, usually kind and understanding, was a mask of hatred. She smiled coldly, without the usual veiled humor and spoke in a soft, deadly voice. _

"_You're disgusting. Did you think that I could ever accept you?" She laughed, her voice ringing oddly in the fog. "You're nothing. Less than nothing. Why did you even bother trying? I was just playing with you. All the times I was nice to you were just an act. You fell for your own trap." _

_Joren struggled to find his voice. "But...you were my friend. You said that the past was jus—" _

_Kel grinned, but there was no humor in it. "I lied. How could I ever even stand to be in your presence after the way you treated me? You think you've changed? Stop deluding yourself. You can't change animal nature. You were born a blight on society and you remain a blight on society." Her voice began to fade as quickly as her image. Soon there was nothing left and he was alone. Again. A cry of despair was torn from his throat and Joren fell to his knees in a soul-wrenching agony. Closing his eyes, he roared in fury at the unfairness of life. He didn't want to die alone..._

Joren was ripped from sleep so suddenly that it left him breathless. A thin sheen of sweat covered his body making him feel sticky and hot. Opening his eyes, Joren tried to drag himself from the last dregs of the dream. Bright sunlight entered through his window and sent sharp needles of pain through his eyes. Groaning, he closed his eyes tightly and held a hand up in defense. His head was pounding as if a thousand hammers were being slammed unrelentingly against it and his mouth tasted like stale ale. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed he tried to stand unsuccessfully. The room swam and his stomach dipped in protest. Stopping to catch his breath, he slowly tried to regain his equilibrium. When he was again somewhat steady, he stood slowly. After a few moments, he made his way to the small wash bowl. Once there he rinsed out his mouth and splashed his face with the cool refreshing water. The pain in his head intensified. Why did being alive have to hurt so much? He vaguely recalled having a few cups of ale and he remembered his short conversation with Dom, but everything after that was hazy. How had he gotten back to his rooms? Trying to remember only made his head pound harder, so he gave up. Wincing at the too bright light that flooded his room he dragged on new clothes and left the room in search of a hangover remedy.

19-19-19-19-19-19-19-19-19

Kel crossed her arms and bit her lip to keep from laughing. The night before, Neal had found both Joren and Dom passed out on ale that cook had complained of being stolen from the kitchen. With the help of Kel herself, they had poured the two unfortunate men into their beds, before leaving them to sleep off the enormous amounts of alcohol they had consumed. Now it was afternoon and Dom had just stumbled from his rooms and into the mess hall in time for the midday meal. Moaning, he stopped short when he realized that Kel and the rest of the group was watching him with barely restrained grins. Ducking his head sheepishly, he sank onto the bench across from Kel and next to Neal. Kel gave him her sternest gaze.

"Do you remember anything from last night, Sergeant Domitan? Or shall I refresh your memory?"

Dom winced visibly. "Yes, Sir Keladry. Its very hard to forget when there's an army of carpenters going at your head."

Neal and a few others snickered at Dom's pitiful tone. Kel fought to keep her mask in place. "You and your partner in crime must have had such fun raiding Cook's stores. What I want to know is if you were celebrating any particular holiday or if your little bout of drinking was just an example of abject stupidity?"

Dom grimaced at the question. "I think I'll go with choice b. I plead stupidity."

Just then someone dropped a clatter of dishes a few tables away. Dom groaned and held his head gingerly, bemoaning the fact that everything was so loud. He began to mumble under his breath, 'Why is it so loud?' One of his men clapped him on the back and gave him a sympathetic stare.

"I know how it feels, Sir. Don't worry, you'll feel better in a few hours."

Dom moaned again. "A few hours! I'll be dead by then!"

At this point, everyone at the table burst into laughter, including Kel. In pain from all the noise, Dom fled back to his quarters, hoping to lessen the thumping in his head. When he had gone, and all the laughter had died down, Kel realized she hadn't seen Joren yet. He too should have been as hungover as Dom. She wondered if he had even awakened yet. Why should she care anyway? He deserved the pain for his irresponsible behavior. She shouldn't care except for the scolding she planned on giving him and that could wait. Forcing herself to forget him, she left the table to do some work.

19-19-19-19-19-19-19-19-19

Joren glanced around to see if anyone was watching him. Finding that the coast was clear, he opened the back door to the kitchens and stepping inside, closed it quietly behind him. His head was still aching and he knew that Cook kept a small supply of hangover remedy in a back shelf somewhere. Now all he had to do was keep from being caught. Cook was in no mood to alleviate Joren's pain after he had stolen some of his beloved ale. Creeping quietly along, he peeked into the storage room. When he saw that it was empty he quickly slipped in and closed the door. He began to rifle through the numerous bottles and jars of spices and sauces, looking for the remedy. When he had thoroughly searched all the shelves he frowned and tried to figure out where else it could be. He was about to look elsewhere when his eye caught sight of a small, unmarked bottle that had fallen to the floor in his hasty search. Bending he picked it up and opened it, sniffing the contents cautiously. Having used this remedy before, he knew the scent. Satisfied that he had found it, Joren smiled triumphantly before thrusting the small bottle into his pocket. Nudging the storage door open a slice, he made sure he was still alone before escaping to the back door. Relieved, he chuckled quietly and grabbed the doorknob. He was startled when, before he could turn it, someone opened the door. Surprised, he stepped quickly back. Kel stood in the doorway, looking as surprised at Joren himself. Startled, she just stared for a moment before regaining her composure. Almost seamlessly, her face became emotionless. Her hazel eyes became remote and her mouth firmed in determination. Softly, she spoke.

"What are you doing here? You're the last person who should be caught in the kitchens after the little incident last night."

Joren drank in her image. Despite the cool way she gazed at him, he was glad that she was still _Kel_. He hadn't realized it, but the dream the night before had really affected him. He knew in his mind that Kel could never act that way and that it would go against her very nature, but on some level he had feared it. Relieved to even see her, he didn't speak for a minute. Then, remembering her question he answered in the same self-assured tone he had taken to using more often around her.

"I was just getting some hangover remedy. I was going to share it with Dom."

Kel narrowed her eyes, clearly not believing him. "Really. Why is it that I don't think that was your plan at all?"

Joren shrugged innocently. "Maybe because you're just a suspicious person. You know me, always trying to do good for others. After all, Domitan of Masbolle is one of my closest friends."

Kel's mouth twitched before she controlled her impulses. Joren caught the small movement and warmth flooded him. She wasn't as immune to him as she acted. Kel shook her head.

"You're close friends with Dom now? When did this happen? As I recall, there was tension between you two."

Joren grinned insolently. "We became close friends last night. How can you not be friends with the man you got drunk with?"

Kel sighed and motioned for him to leave. "I'll take your word on that, but I had better hear that Dom received some of that remedy. If I hear different, I'll come looking for you."

Joren smirked and saluted her. "Yes sir, Lady Knight. I will." Joren moved to brush past her. As he stepped out of the building, his arm brushed hers and briefly their gazes met. For a moment her hazel eyes warmed and Kel was his friend again. Without thinking, he reached a hand to her cheek and tenderly stroked a finger along the line of her jaw. Then he stilled as if just remembering that they were no longer close. As if frozen in time, neither moved, then with a sudden motion, Kel stepped back and away from him, her face as emotionless as before. She closed the door with a firm snap behind her, shutting him out of her life once again. Joren closed his eyes and cursed himself. Clenching his fists, he pushed back the misery that threatened to overwhelm him. It looked to be another long week.


	20. New Friends

**Unexpected Love**

"_**We come to love not by**_

_**finding a perfect person, but**_

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 20**

**New Friends**

Joren made his way to Dom's quarters where the man was presumably groaning in pain. Until he'd told Kel that he was sharing the hangover remedy, he hadn't actually planned on giving Dom any. Now he was committed to sharing, even if he wanted the sergeant to suffer. It was an unreasonable resentment he held against Dom, for the man hadn't done anything to him, but Joren's jealousy was an uncontrollable emotion that he couldn't forestall. Joren shook his head to clear it. He himself had pushed Kel away and he had no one but himself to blame.

Soon after leaving the kitchens, he had used the some of the remedy. Already, his pounding headache was receding and his eyes, less sensitive. He had left plenty for the estimable Dom, though he'd done it grudgingly. Walking easily he passed several of New Hope's residents. A sense of contentment filled him at their almost casual friendliness. They respected him now, not as a noble, but a fellow comrade. Joren was surprised at how good their acceptance made him feel. After all, who would've thought that Joren of Stone Mountain, whose family was of the Gold Book, would crave the friendship of commoners. He would've thought that it'd be the other way around. Shaking his head at the irony of it, Joren continued to the barracks.

When he arrived at Dom's door, he raised his fist to knock. Briefly, he hesitated, then shaking off his petulant mood, he knocked three times and waited for the man to answer. Joren heard a muffled groan before a tousled-headed Dom nudged the door open and stuck his head out, an irritated look on his face.

"Why'd you have to pound so loud? My head feels as if a war is being fought between giants inside it." Dom glared at him unforgivably.

Joren gave him an insolent smile and held up the half-filled bottle that would cure his pain. "I have the answer to your prayers in the palm of my hand."

Dom narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "And what would that be?"

"How about you let me in and I'll tell you. You won't regret it."

For a moment, Joren thought Dom would refuse him entry, but after a contemplative silence, the sergeant opened his door wide and stepped aside, allowing Joren to pass. As Joren entered the room, he noted that it was neat and tidy, but dim. The drapes were pulled around his window letting only a small crack of light through. His bed was rumpled, the covers strewn carelessly on top. Dom turned to face him and crossing his arms, gave Joren a pointed look. Ignoring Dom's gesture of impatience, Joren walked around the small quarters. He paused at the desk, which had a few reports stacked on top. A unique-looking rock served as a paperweight. Picking it up, Joren began to toss it from hand to hand as he again faced Dom. By now the poor man's patience had grown thin. Irritated with Joren's casual scrutiny of his quarters and the careless way he had handled his personal things, Dom grabbed the paperweight and settled it back on the stack of reports. Sighing Joren reached for the remedy again and handed it to Dom, who took it cautiously.

"Now that you've made yourself at home, will you tell me what this disgusting looking liquid is?"

Joren smiled. "I stole that from Cook's kitchens. Its a hangover remedy. It may look and taste nasty, but it works wonders for overindulgence with alcohol. I've already taken some myself."

Dom eyed the bottle speculatively, then opened it and sniffed cautiously. Turning his head away, he grimaced at the foul smell.

"Are you sure this stuff works? He looks and smells like pig slop."

"Of course it works. Would I give something so revolting if wasn't worth it? We are close friends are we not?"

Dom glared. "Where did you get that idea?"

Joren leaned back against the wall. "Well, we did share a drink or two. That kind of bond isn't easily broken. This remedy I'm giving to you should cement it.

Dom sighed in acceptance. "All right. I'll try it, but if this is some trick, you'll regret it. I'm in no mood to be forgiving."

Without waiting for Joren's response, Dom lifted the contents to his lips and with one last grimace at the smell, drank it.

Joren grinned at Dom's obvious discomfort at downing the disgusting substance. He watched the sergeant at one point almost gag, before catching himself and finishing the bottle off. Wiping his mouth, Dom went to the small bowl holding water in the corner of his room. Quickly, he rinsed out his mouth. When he had rid his mouth of most of the taste, he dried his face with a clean towel.

Turning to Joren, he inquired impatiently. "How long does the stuff need to take effect?"

Joren shrugged. "Anywhere from a quarter of an hour to half an hour."

Dom sighed at the wait. "All right then. I guess I'll have to just suffer through for a little while longer." Pausing, he met Joren's eyes squarely. "If this works, then I owe you my thanks. I appreciate you sharing the remedy with me. You could have just let me endure the consequences of our little drinking party."

Joren felt guilt tug at him. He _had_ been planning to do just that. Wincing, he shook his head. "No need to thank me. I almost didn't share it."

Dom lifted a brow. "Really. What changed your mind?"

Joren rolled his eyes. "Not what, but who. It was a mutual friend of ours."

Dom frowned. "Kel? Kel convinced you to give me some?"

Joren nodded. "She caught me leaving the kitchen through the back door and she wasn't happy. Only after I promised to share it with you, did she let me pass."

Dom's laughter surprised both of them. Grinning at his own folly, Joren joined in. In just that moment, the two former enemies became friends.

20-20-20-20-20-20-20-20-20

Kel was hungry. Not really wanting company, she'd decided to use the back door to the kitchen and take some food to eat at her desk. Instead of finding food, she'd found Joren. She remembered the surprised look on his face and the way he'd quickly masked it behind sarcasm and an insolent smile. Instead of acting cool and untouchable as he had in her office, he'd instead been almost breezy, as if he hadn't a care in the world. She was unnerved by the sudden changes in him. Though her heart still ached from his rejection, Kel still worried about him. His rapid transformation from warm friend, to cold enemy, and then back to casual comrade had been a little too staged to be natural. She wondered if it was her. Was he laughing at her behind her back, amused that Kel could ever be liked by him, Joren of Stone Mountain. His icy good looks never failed to make her heart speed up and her breathing quicken. Despite everything she'd know about him, everything she'd endured because of him, she'd fallen in love with him. In the physical sense, they were opposites. He was the ice prince and she the common peasant girl. Kel knew her features were unremarkable. Oh, she wasn't ugly, but neither was she particularly pretty, and she didn't have the soft body of a court lady either. If she had, would Joren have loved her? Kel was startled by the single tear that fell from her cheek. Hadn't she put her emotions behind her? Refusing to give in to her silent misery, Kel straightened her shoulders and continued to her office. She couldn't dwell on what what ifs any longer. She had work to do and there was a whole camp that depended on her, Keladry of Mindelan, not some silly-headed court lady. She wouldn't let them down. If she failed them, then she'd have nothing and that would break her, as loving and being rejected by Joren hadn't.

20-20-20-20-20-20-20-20-20

Neal and Merric had decided to meet in Neal's quarters for an impromptu talk. Both men had began to worry about Kel and the distant way she seemed to go through her day. It seemed almost as if she was just going through the motions. Sometimes, the real Kel would peek through, like in the mess hall with Dom, but those moments were short-lived. Soon after Dom had left, Kel had again become aloof and when asked a question or told a joke, would only respond half-heartedly. Now both Neal and Merric were worried. What had happened? Why was she so remote?

"Did something happen to Kel that we don't know about? We both know she's not herself." Neal's usually mischievous eyes were worried and filled with concern. Bending forward, he leaned his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. He addressed Merric in a serious tone that belied the gravity of his worry.

Merric sighed in puzzlement. "It was almost as if one day she was fine then suddenly the next she was out of it. I mean, before this, she seemed a little stressed maybe, but nothing more than usual."

Neal frowned, his green eyes fixed on a blank spot on the wall, his mind shifting and discarding possible reasons. After a few minutes of thinking with no solution in sight, he growled in frustration and shoved a distracted hand through his hair. His already disheveled hair began to resemble that of a wild man's, with tufts of dark hair sticking up in odd places. Neither man seemed to notice.

"I just don't know, Neal. I can't remember her ever being like this before and we've both known her for years." Merric's impatience at the confusing situation was obvious. Though he and Kel hadn't always agreed, he still respected her as one of the most trustworthy and honorable knights he knew. It frustrated him that he couldn't help her when she needed it the most.

Neal shook his head slowly and sat back in his chair. "We'll have to just wait and see. If we pay attention, we're sure to catch something."

Merric nodded his agreement. They would watch and wait. When they found the reason, they'd fix it, as much as they were able.


	21. Retribution

**Unexpected Love**

"_**We come to love not by**_

_**finding a perfect person, but**_

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter ****21**

**Retribution**

Joren stared at the door of Merric's room, contemplating whether to knock or not. On one hand, he wanted to get the whole affair over with. Working a patrol again would be a relief almost. His stay at New Hope, while restful, had begun to gnaw at him, as his usual daily routine of work had been nonexistent. Despite his restlessness, he wasn't looking forward to serving under Sir Merric, however temporary. It just bothered him. He had always been a leader and having to follow orders from another knight, whom he didn't completely like, really made him feel uncomfortable. Sighing at the no-win situation, Joren gave up. It wasn't the end of the world after all, and at least he'd have something more to do than just taking an occasional ride on Lancelot or working with the carpenters, however satisfying the woodworking had turned out to be. With the air of a man going to his execution, Joren knocked hard on the door. When a few moments later, there was no answer, he frowned. Where was the man when you needed him? Scowling at the inconvenience of it all, Joren spun around and almost rammed straight into one of the soldiers in Merric's patrol. Remembering the man's name as Gerris, he addressed him.

"Gerris, isn't it? I was wondering if you knew where Sir Merric may be. I'm supposed to retrieve my orders from him. I checked his rooms and he isn't answering. Is he on patrol?"

The man shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, Sir Joren, but he isn't on patrol. I can't be sure as where to find him, but I did see him heading towards the back hall. Sir Neal's quarters are there. He often visits with him. You might try there."

Thanking Gerris, Joren decided to take man's suggestion. He'd try Sir Neal's and if he wasn't there, he'd assume that the God's had fated it and give up, at least for the time being. Walking quickly, he found Sir Neal's room easily, as it was denoted by a large and prominent plaque with an elegant script neatly carved into it. It stated the man's full name and rank, which Joren found to be just a little over the top. This wasn't the palace, just a small camp of wayward refugees and peasants. Deciding that it fit Neal's both childish and pompous attitude, Joren chuckled quietly at the inanity of it and knocked on the door.

After a short few moments, the door opened wide revealing a wild-looking Neal, his green eyes almost feverish with some sort of frustration. His hair looked as if lightning had struck his head. Several times. For a second, Joren fought to hold in the laughter that threatened to spill out, but he soon gave into the overwhelming urge. Neal, who saw no amusement in the situation scowled and demanded to know why Joren was acting so strange.

"What is so funny? I haven't even said a word yet, and you're laughing as if I have just told you a marvelous joke."

Grinning at him unapologetically, Joren reigned in his laughter. In a mocking voice that dripped with scorn, he addressed the frightful-looking healer. "You didn't have to tell a joke. Your appearance alone is enough to send the most solemn Mithran priest into gales of laughter. You can't blame me for thinking you resemble a wild man who has never known the wonders of polite society."

Neal gaped at him for several seconds in astonishment, then recovering, stormed back into his quarters, leaving the door open. Interpreting the still open door as an invitation, Joren stepped through and surveyed the messy room. When he saw Merric sitting at one of Neal's chairs, he walked to him, stepping over the many piles of clothes. Merric, who had watched Joren enter, greeted him.

"Joren, what are you doing here?"

Merric's words were interrupted by a muffled shriek that came from the small lavatory. Neal had obviously seen his reflection. A few moments later, his hair damp from a fresh wetting and combing, Neal marched back into the room, glowering ominously in Merric's direction.

"Why didn't you tell me that I looked so terrible?"

Merric shrugged half-heartedly, unaffected by his friend's reproachful tone. "I guess I'm just used to your appearance. I didn't even realize that you looked more untidy than usual. Sorry."

Neal glared at Merric, affronted at the careless insult. "I do not always look like that! I'm usually very put together. If anything, that was the opposite of my usual suave good looks."

Merric snickered. "If you say so."

Joren, who had been watching the exchange with amusement, interrupted to get to the reason why he was there. "Excuse me gentlemen, but I did come for more than your stimulating company."

Neal raised a brow and drawled in that annoying voice of his. "Really? And what might that be?"

Joren gave him a sneer in return. "I actually came to see Merric. You just provided the entertainment." Without pausing to acknowledge the offended look on Neal's face, he turned to Merric. "Kel told me to report to you today for orders and a schedule. I'm supposed to patrol under you."

Merric nodded. "I did receive her missive on that. The papers are in my room. Neal and I were finished anyway."

Standing he made his way to the door, navigating carefully through the minefield of clothes. Joren followed him, as conscious as Merric. He didn't relish the thought of stepping on clothes that had been worn by the ever-questionable Neal. When they had safely reached the door, Merric turned, remembering something.

"By the way, I wanted to ask you. Do you know why Kel's been not herself lately? We've known her for years and we can tell that she's been hurt deeply. Both Neal and me tried to figure it out, but we just don't have any idea. Have you seen anything that might suggest why?"

Joren stared at him, as shock rippled unchecked across his face. Had he really hurt Kel that much? He had seen the hurt and pain on her face, but Kel had hidden her emotions so well, he had figured that she had started to get over him. The enormity of his guilt threatened to swallow him, but he pushed it away. Lowering his head, he clenched his fists at the helplessness he felt. It was his fault, yet the only way he could fix it, would be to tell her the truth. That would mean telling her that he had lied on purpose, with the intention of hurting her. All he had wanted what was best for her, but in the end he had made it worse. Was it possible that he had been wrong and that she had really loved him and didn't care about the past? Had his fears that she would eventually grow to resent him for his part in her miserable page years been unfounded? Horrified at the thought, Joren closed his eyes. The telling silence of his response was enough to alert both Neal and Merric to his guilt. Both stood facing him now, their faces demanding an explanation.

Taking a deep breath, he gathered the famous Stone Mountain resolve and faced them, his eyes direct and honest. "It's my fault. I hurt Kel, but I was only doing what I thought was best for her. I didn't mean to—"

"It was you? You hurt her?" Neal's voice was deadly quiet. The fury in his voice was palpable.

Joren kept his gaze direct. "Yes."

Joren stared at Neal and watched as the healer was completely transformed from friend to enemy. The respect that Neal had only moments ago had for Joren was gone. In its place was disgust and rage. Merric mirrored Neal's look. In that moment, Joren realized that he had lost them. He had lost the friendship and acceptance that both Neal and Merric had given him. His friendship with them had been tenuous, based on the fact that he was no longer that cruel man from the past. With just one admission, the foundation of their friendship had crumbled. All that was left were the broken pieces of his life. The pain that had weighed him down from the ruin of his and Kel's relationship tripled. Bearing down under the weight of it he forced himself to face them.

Neal's face, which had been angry before, grew even more so. Merric, who had remained silent so far, finally spoke.

"Why did you do it? We _trusted_ you. We gave you a second chance, despite your past. _Kel_ gave you a chance and you repay it with this betrayal of our respect? I was beginning to think you really had become a different person. I guess you really can't change what you are."

His agony at the cruel twist of fate that had deprived him of friends he had grown to like and respect was almost physically painful. At the thought of the return of their disdainful and cold looks, which had always preceded them in their page years, almost brought Joren to his knees. Refusing to show them how much their respect had meant, Joren closed his eyes, willing the cold, emotionless mask of indifference to the fore. He would accept their judgment. The brief time he had had them as friends was more than he could have ever expected from them after his terrible treatment during their page years. He felt the cold seep throughout his body until he was the ice prince once again. Opening his eyes he lifted his chin and met their gazes. He wouldn't beg for their forgiveness. Instead he would let them cement their view of him as betrayer of their trust. In the scheme of things, his intentions meant nothing. All that mattered was the result.

"She told me she loved me and I told her that I didn't love her back. I told her that the reason I kissed her was to see what it would feel like to kiss the Lump. I made her think she wasn't good enough. I—"

His words were abruptly stopped by Neal's fist in his face. The splitting pain from the blow threw him back several steps. Recovering, he watched as Neal stalked forward and hit him again. Merric stepped forward as Neal continued to pummel him, his rage at Joren's cruelty overtaking him. Throughout the beating, Joren refused to fight back. He was guilty and deserved their punishment. Soon, he welcomed the black oblivion that swallowed him whole, giving him temporary relief from the agonizing pain of retribution.


	22. Tenderness and Worry

**Unexpected Love**

"_**We come to love not by**_

_**finding a perfect person, but**_

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter**** 22**

**Tenderness and Worry**

Kel stared at Neal, horror on her face. She had to have heard wrong. Surely, they were joking, ready to grin and laugh at her gullibility at any moment. She stared from one grim face to another. Both men confronted her without their usual smiles.

"What do you mean you beat Joren? You're joking, surely." Her voice was dangerously mild, like the calm before a storm.

Merric seemed determined to make her see reason. "Its no joke, Kel. He's in the infirmary. Neal and me taught him a lesson. We know what he did to you. He admitted it, right to our faces. His friendly act was all a lie. I knew we shouldn't have trusted him. I knew he was—"

Kel seemed to fade from the scene. The rest of Merric's words were drowned out by the roaring in her ears. Joren beaten and bruised, in her name. It was wrong, so wrong. The sick feeling in her turning stomach intensified, until she couldn't bear it any longer. She had to see him, make sure he was all right. Pushing past the both of them, she started to run towards the infirmary, her eyes blind to her surroundings. Then as if just remembering her friends, she turned back for just an instant.

"You were wrong. You've gone and beaten an innocent man. What was between Joren and me was personal. You had no right, _no right _to interfere. I can't believe it of you two."

At Kel's words, Neal seemed to go sickly pale. Merric's face, which had been flushed with self-righteousness, became marble white, his freckles standing out.

"But he told us what he did to you, he admitted that he hurt you on purpose. He even made the ridiculous statement that he did it for your own good!"

Kel was shaking her head. "He may have hurt me, but it had nothing to do with making me unhappy. Just because he didn't want me as more than a friend, doesn't mean he should be punished for it. If I felt miserable, than that was on me, not him. He's not responsible for the way I feel."

Without waiting for any more of their justifications, she left. All she could think was that she had to go to him. She had to tell him that she was sorry. So sorry, for what he had endured.

Within minutes she had reached the building. Out of breath and scared to the very marrow of her bones, she paused at the door. Swallowing the nauseous feeling in her throat, she slowly opened the door of the building, her hands shaking uncharacteristically. Stepping quietly inside, she made her way to the lone patient in the building. She could make out his vague silhouette under the covers. From what she could see, he was on his back. The covers were pulled up, covering most of his body. From a distance, he looked as if he was just sleeping, that nothing had happened. Her steps quickening, she walked swiftly to his side. As she approached, she saw the side of his face and a gasp of shock escaped her lips before she could hold it back. His face was a mass of bruises and cuts. The cuts had been neatly bandaged, but the bruises, though treated, would be painful for a while yet. Miraculously, only one eye was blackened. His lips were swollen, split from a hard and merciless fist. His cheeks were bruised, a bluish-green tinge to them. His white blond hair was in disarray, falling around his face in a mess of tangled silk. Trembling, her eyes burning, Kel lowered herself into the chair next to his bed. With hesitant fingers, she brushed the silky stands back from his face, careful not put pressure on any of his wounds. Silently, tears fell from her eyes. Why had this happened? How could a simple misunderstanding result in so thorough a beating? And why hadn't Joren protected himself? She had noticed that both Neal and Merric were unscathed, though Neal had been shaken by the ferocity he had unleashed on Joren. Even with two against one, Joren was bound to get in a few shots. Anger at her friends bubbled up. How could they have done such a horrid thing? They had to have known that they were in the wrong. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and buried her face in her arms, resting her upper body on the side of Joren's bed. They had been trying to protect her. What they had done was unjust. In that, there was no question. Their actions may have been erroneous, but their intentions were true. Despite this knowledge, Kel could not shake her anger. This time, her friends had gone too far.

Lifting her head, she studied Joren again. Her eyes traveled down the length of his hidden body. She could only imagine the damage that had been done. The white sheet that covered him was pulled to mid chest. He was shirtless, the healers having removed the garment during their examination. Even though the bruising was terrible, it didn't change the fact that Joren had a well-muscled chest, hardened from years of knight's work. The defined contours of his upper body were evidence of a devoted fighter. He obviously didn't have the soft build of a nobleman who stayed indoors and only attended court functions and rode a desk. Sighing at her fickle nature, Kel moved her gaze back to his face. Here was Joren, lying unconscious after a vicious beating and she was merely admiring his physique. Biting her lip, she gently gripped his hand in her own. She would stay by his side until he woke. Their differences were forgotten. Right then, all that mattered was the well being of Joren, the man she loved, despite his indifference to her feelings.

22-22-22-22-22-22-22-22

Joren woke slowly. As he surfaced toward consciousness, he became aware of his increasingly aching body. Fighting the rush of pain, he refused to go under again. He felt as if he had been sleeping for years, his head filled with nothingness for too long. His eyes still closed, he assessed the numerous aches and pains. His body was stiff from staying in so still a position for a long time. His ribs throbbed, though he could feel the tight wrapping that bound his chest and upper abdomen. He hesitantly moved his legs. When there was no sudden spasm of pain, relief flowed through him. Not being able to walk would have greatly displeased him. Satisfied with his lower extremities, he gently tried to move his arms, hands and fingers. The left side moved easily, but the right side of his body was heavy, as if weighed down. He could hardly feel his right arm and the right side of his chest. Was he paralyzed? Panic threatened, but he pushed it away. He did feel _something_. It just felt extremely numb. Just then, Joren became aware of a pleasant scent. He could smell the pleasing fragrance of lilies. Frowning he tried to make sense of it. Lilies? Since when did _he_ smell like lilies? It was the most un-masculine scent a man could be stuck with. Alarmed at the thought of smelling like a woman, Joren opened his eyes.

At first, he could see nothing, the dimness of the room preventing his eyes from seeing all but the vaguest outlines. Slowly, his eyes grew accustomed to the lack of light. He found himself staring at the ceiling. He could see the wood boards that made up the network of supporting structures. Slowly, he moved his gaze down. Shifting to peer at his chest, he found himself gazing at the face of the woman he loved. His fears of being paralyzed disappeared. In it's place, a feeling of tenderness arose. Tenderness, for the woman asleep on his chest. Lifting his free arm, he gently stroked her hair, careful not to disturb her slumber. Why had she come here? She must have stayed by his side for hours to fall asleep from weariness on _him_. Their previous encounter had been distant at best. The last thing she would want would be to doze off on the man who had hurt her, not to mention the fact that for Kel, it would be embarrassing because of her reserved Yamani nature. His mind flew back to the reason for his injuries. Though many of the pains were fixed, his body was still aching like he had been stepped on by a horse. Multiple times. He tried to shift his numb flank subtly. Despite the discomfort on the right side of his body, Joren didn't want to disturb Kel from her sleep. He didn't want her to leave him. He knew that eventually, she'd wake on her own, but until then, he would savor the feel of her snuggled against his heart.

Joren could feel the sweet flutter of her breath on the bare skin of his chest. Still stroking her hair, he closed his eyes and sighed softly. What a mess they'd made of things, he and Kel. Would they ever get it right?


	23. True Awakening

**Unexpected Love**

"_**We come to love not by**_

_**finding a perfect person, but**_

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter**** 23**

**True Awakening**

Kel woke to the gentle stroking of someone's hand on her hair. Lulled by the tender movements, she kept her eyes closed and her breathing even. She felt so warm and sleepy, she didn't want to move. The stroking continued and Kel basked in the feeling of pleasure. So caught in her half-conscious dream state, Kel didn't realize she was lying on something both warm and hard. Beneath her ear, she could hear the muffled thump of a heartbeat, slow and almost melodious in nature. Her mind began to free itself from the last dregs of sleep. As Kel lifted her heavy lids, her gaze met and locked with a pair of silver-blue eyes. Caught in their spellbinding stare, Kel remained motionless for a long moment. The hand on her hair stilled. Subtly, it tightened, burrowing its fingers through the soft strands. Kel's breath quickened, her lips trembling with the movement. Slowly, she lifted her head, encouraged by the pressure of the firm hand on the back of her head. When she was only inches from his face, with the warmth of his breath fanning her cheeks, Kel closed her eyes. An instant later, his lips were on hers, gentle and tender. A soft sigh of contentment escaped her lips. She was home. Home in the arms of her love. The hand in her hair massaged her scalp, making her moan in pleasure. Astonished with the sound, Kel started, pulling away from him. Her eyes studied his face again. She had been afraid that the sound would snap them both out of their dreamlike state and Joren would realize who he was kissing. Instead his gaze was warm and filled with...affection...tenderness...or something else, something more? Afraid to hope, Kel ignored the unknown message in his eyes and pressed her mouth to his again. He responded eagerly, his lips parting hers, his tongue delving deep into the warmth of her mouth. Kel's hands, which had unconsciously made their way to his shoulders, tightened at the intimacy of the kiss. Now it was he who groaned, his breath shuddering and fast. Moments later, they were forced to break away from each other, both gasping for air. Joren spoke first, his voice husky from their kiss.

"Kel, I'm sorry. I know that you hate me and I know that I caused trouble when I told Neal and Merric about us, but I never meant for any of this to happen. I just wanted you to be happy, to get what you deserved. I didn't know I had hurt you so much. I'm sorry, so sorry for causing you pain. I didn't mean to. If you believe nothing else, believe that."

Kel stared at him, the shock of his words evident on her face. Why was he apologizing? He wasn't to blame for Neal's and Merric's actions. They had been wrong, not he. And hate him? She didn't hate him. Astonished that he could think she would blame him, hate him, Kel couldn't speak for a minute. Then recovering, she shook her head resolutely, angry that he could think that of her.

"Why are you apologizing? This isn't your fault, it's Neal's and Merric's. How could you think that I would blame _you_ for their actions. I thought you knew me better than that. As for hating you, I don't. You hurt me, but I understood that." Her voice softened, grew thick. "I know I'm not what you want. And I know that I misunderstood your intentions. For that I'm sorry. I don't know how could have seen something that wasn't there."

Joren stared at her. Then suddenly as if angry, he gripped her arms hard. "Don't."

His voice shook with some unknown emotion. "Don't ever think that. You didn't misunderstand me. I lied to you that day. When I told you that I didn't love you, that I didn't want you, I was lying. I wanted to protect you from myself. I thought that if I wasn't selfish, that if I gave you to Dom, that it'd somehow make up for past sins. I knew I wasn't good enough and I didn't want to ruin your life. I wanted you to have everything you deserved, including an honorable man to love, and who'd love you in return."

Kel closed her eyes, Joren's confession making her feel light-headed. He was silent, waiting for her judgment. She knew him now. He was waiting for the recriminations, the accusations and guilt. He was waiting for the pain. Slowly, her mind whirling from the impossibility of his love, Kel opened her eyes. Joren's ice blue ones were dimmed. He thought he knew what was coming.

"It wasn't your decision. It was my choice to make. If I wanted to throw my life away with you, than that was my prerogative." She smiled to soften her words. "Not that I would be throwing my life away. Just the opposite. I would be gaining something I've never had before. A partner, lover, and companion who loved me. What you did was in one way, just as bad as Neal's and Merric's mistake. I don't know what it is about me that drives you men to want to shelter me from the big bad world, but you all need to know something. I can take care of myself. I know what I'm doing. It's _my_ life." Kel gently pressed a kiss to Joren's palm. It was callused and rough from years of hard work. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin and met his eyes. "I love you Joren of Stone Mountain. And don't ever forget that."

Joren cupped her cheek in his hand, his thumb gently stroking her soft mouth. "Then you forgive me? For my meddlesome behavior?"

Kel gave him a wobbly smile. "Yes. I forgive you."

With a soft groan of happiness Joren pulled her to him, his mouth seeking hers. Their lips just a hairsbreadth apart, he paused. "I love you Keladry of Mindelan." Then her mouth was sinking into his, his arms wrapped tight around her, his hair tangled with hers. It seemed like decades before they pulled away from each other.

Sighing heavily, Kel brushed a hand gently over his battered face. He winced despite her care.

"I look terrible, don't I? How could you even stand to kiss me in this state?"

Surprised, Kel laughed. "How could I kiss you? Do you think I care about something so superfluous as a few bruises? You're beautiful. Nothing could ever change that."

Uncomfortable with the term, Joren grimaced. "Beautiful? I was going for something along the lines of handsome, attractive, even charming. I can't be beautiful. That's so unmanly. A Stone Mountain is anything but _that_."

Kel smiled at his vain words. The thorough beating he had received had not silenced his ever sarcastic tongue.

Conscious of the way their image would appear to an audience, Kel moved to leave the bed. She was sprawled, quite indecently, over Joren's body. Anyone, who saw them would get an eyeful. Soon, her intimate moments with Joren would no longer be a secret. Gossip in New Hope was always lively and secrets could not be kept within the large camp. As Kel tried to rise from her place against his chest, Joren protested, his hands holding her to him.

"Where are you going? Don't leave yet. I like you against my chest. It's comfortable."

Suddenly shy, Kel ducked her head. "Someone could walk in. You know how the people talk. Word of our compromising position would soon be privy to every ear in New Hope. We're lucky we haven't been caught already. I still can't believe I fell asleep on you. I hadn't planned to. I was just going to keep watch until you woke. It must have been quite uncomfortable. I know I'm heavy."

Joren shook his head. "You're not heavy."

Kel stared down at him. "Yes I am. Tell me your whole right side isn't numb, not to mention the feel of me on top of you." Kel flushed at her last words. The sound of them was so mortifying.

Joren refused to back down. "Your not heavy. I told you. I like the feel of you against my chest."

Kel gave him a narrow-eyed look. "Well, despite your pleasant feelings, I have to get up. How would it look if the knight commander was found in bed with one of her soldiers? Not very professional, that's what."

Joren grinned cheekily. "No. They'd just think that their knight commander has good taste in men."

Kel couldn't prevent a smile, but tempered it with a light slap on the shoulder. At his wince of pain, she merely sat with brows raised, unimpressed by his exaggerated yelp. "You deserved it for that untoward comment. And who says I have good taste? I myself think it's a bit off. You're definitely one of my poorer choices."

Insulted, Joren gave her a look of disbelief. "Just a minute ago you were declaring your love. If you really loved me, you wouldn't make fun of me like that."

Kel sat up straighter and crossed her arms. "Says who. Your ego is big enough as it is. I don't need to inflate it more with my insignificant comments. If anything, it needs to be deflated a bit."

Joren sighed heavily, defeated by her words. "I'm too sore and too tired to argue with the Protector of the Small. I concede the victory to you."

Kel glared at him. "Don't call me that! And where did you hear it anyway? It's a perfectly ridiculous name."

Joren grinned. "You said it yourself. There are no secrets in New Hope."

Kel slid off the bed, careful not to cause Joren any further pain. He had suffered enough for the moment, despite her words toward the contrary. When she was again standing on her own two feet, Kel began straightening the covers, smoothing the wrinkles. As she pulled the sheet back up over his chest, Joren stilled her busy hands with his own. Gently, he pressed her palm to his heart. Her pulse thumping, Kel stared at the image of her finely scarred and callused palm against his hard and muscled chest, the bruises beneath her hand making him appear more vulnerable. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his. The ice in his blue eyes had melted, leaving a soft pool of tenderness and love behind. Overcome by her feelings, Kel pressed a last quick kiss to his mouth, before escaping his grasp. On her way to the door she paused at the foot of his bed.

"I've got work to do and I've neglected it long enough. You need rest. Don't get out of bed and don't cause any trouble. As for Neal and Merric, I'll deal with them. Your punishment was paid in full when Neal beat you." Kel stopped for a moment. Suddenly she remembered something that had been bothering her. "Why did you not fight back? I know for a fact that you're a more than able knight and could have defended yourself, or least have gotten a few shots in. Why didn't you?"

Joren was silent for a moment. Then softly, he spoke. "I felt guilty. I knew that I had hurt you and I thought I deserved it. It was simply self-punishment. Neal's not completely at fault. I said things to him that I knew would make him angry. I wanted him to hit me. I wanted to feel the same pain that I'd given you. Don't be too hard him. He was only protecting you. I don't know if you realize it, but you inspire loyalty that cannot be bought. You are well worth the pain I'm feeling now."

Kel gaped at him in astonishment. Then, realizing that she must look terribly simple-minded, she shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Thank you, I think." Swiftly, she walked to the end of the building, her mind whirling from Joren's words. At the door, she turned to deliver a last message. "I love you."

Then she was gone, presumably to confront Neal and Merric.

**Author's Note: **Thx guys for all the wonderful reviews. This chapter was especially long. I didn't plan to write so much, but it just turned out that way. I hope you enjoyed it. I know it was very fluffy. I'd like your opinion on something. Should I wrap the story up soon, or put another subplot into it? Tell me what you think! Review!


	24. Apologies

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 24**

**Apologies**

Kel found Neal and Merric in the mess hall. Both were staring at their food, while shifting it on their plates listlessly, neither eating. At her approach, they lifted their heads. Neal visibly cringed, still looking green around the gills. Merric was pale, his freckles standing out against his face. Both had expressions of remorse and an almost physical sickness. It was obvious to Kel, that they were both very sorry. But it didn't matter. What they had done was wrong, and wrongs had to be punished. Her face solemn, Kel stood in front of them without speaking for a moment. When she was sure she had their complete attention, she spoke.

"Shame on you both. I've just come back from the infirmary. Joren's awake. Do you know what he told me?"

Merric was the first to speak. "That we beat him unfairly. That he didn't touch us. I know we were wrong, but he wa—"

"No." Her answer seemed to shock them both. "He told me that he was the one in the wrong. That he'd provoked you by telling you he had hurt me on purpose. That he'd lied to me about his feelings and that he deserved the beating you both gave him. He told me to go easy on _you_, Neal. He said you were only trying to protect me."

Neal's face, which had already been sickly looking, became even more so, if that was possible. Kel could see the torment in his eyes. For all Neal's bluster, he was a sensitive knight. The thought of beating a relatively innocent man had disturbed him to the core. Merric, who had been ready to defend their actions, had fallen silent. Shame had flamed his cheeks and his head was bowed in disgrace.

Softly, her voice low and filled with emotion, Kel continued. "I know that the two of you thought you were doing what was right and you that you were protecting me, but that reason in itself is wrong. I never needed protecting and you certainly weren't doing what was right. From this point forward, I fight my own battles unless I ask for your help. The only thing I ask of you is your loyalty to me both as a knight and a friend. If you respect me, then you will do as I wish. As for Joren, he deserves the same respect that you've given me. We all know about the past, but that's all it is now—the past. It's over and done with. I don't want to hear anymore about it ever again. I know that you're both sorry, but that's not good enough. As commander of New Hope, I give both of you latrine duty for the next month as punishment. You will both apologize to Joren and you Neal will tend him yourself until he is well. No one else. Merric, you will make sure he has everything he needs and is comfortable."

Neal's whisper filled the silence. "I'm so sorry, Kel. I know there's no excuse, but I really am sorry, so sorry." His voice broke on the last word.

Kel closed her eyes briefly. "I know that, but it's Joren you need to tell not me."

Neal was quiet for a moment, before he finally asked the singular question that was tormenting him. "Can you ever forgive me?"

Kel sighed. "I already have."

Relief was evident on his features. "Thank you." He seemed to grow more in stature. "I will never let you down again. I promise."

"I, as well. I'm sorry too. We truly thought we were right at the time. I think our anger finally got to us. For days now we've been worried about you. I guess we finally snapped." Merric's soft voice was just as repentant as Neal's.

"I forgive you both." She turned to Neal. "You should tend Joren now. He's awake so this would be a good time to take stock of his injuries."

Neal stood quickly. "Yes, of course." Before she could say another word, he was gone, anxious to see his patient and redeem himself.

Merric stood only a few seconds later. "I should make sure he's comfortable, like you said." Then he too was gone. Kel sighed in weariness. Talking to both Merric and Neal just then had been one of the hardest things she'd done in a long time.

24-24-24-24-24-24-24

Joren was staring at the ceiling, bored to tears. Kel had only been gone for a quarter of an hour and he had already started to miss her. His body, which was one big ache at the moment, was driving him mad. Without Kel to distract him from the pain, his sore wounds seemed to intensify. Closing his eyes, he tried to bring back the moment Kel had told him that she had love him. At the memory, he smiled. Despite his own attempts to sabotage their relationship, the gods had seen fit to give him another chance. Mithros, _Kel_ had seen fit to give him another chance. And for that, he would be eternally grateful.

His thoughts scattered at the sound of the infirmary doors opening. His heart jumped. Was it Kel, back already? He was disappointed to see, not Kel, but one of his recent tormentors, Neal. He looked like a beaten man, and if possible, worse than Joren himself. His hair looked like it hadn't been combed in days and his eyes were bloodshot and bleary-looking, but there was an odd light in them, almost as if he was on a mission. When his gaze rested on Joren's covered form, his shoulders seemed to straighten and his face became determined. Quickly he walked to his bedside.

"Joren." Clearing his throat, he began to speak again, his eyes direct and unwavering on Joren's. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve the way I treated you. I was wrong, not you. The only thing I can ask of you is for another chance and your forgiveness. I'll understand, if your unwilling to give it. Mithros knows I don't deserve it."

Joren was simply shocked. The last thing he had expected was for Neal to march in, apologizing and asking for forgiveness. Instead, he would have assumed the opposite. His eyes narrowing, a thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Did Kel put you up to this? Look, you don't have to apologize, we both know that it was my fault—"

"No, she didn't." He paused, then amended his statement. "She did tell me to apologize, but that's not why I'm here. Regardless of her orders, I would have done so anyway. You aren't responsible for what I did to you. I'm in control of my own actions and I will take the guilt where guilt is owed. When I apologize and ask for forgiveness, I do it for myself, not Kel."

Joren stared at him for a moment, then assured of his sincerity, he nodded. "I accept your apology and I forgive you. How much of a hypocrite would I be if I didn't extend the same courtesy you did me when I asked for a second chance? You may not know this, but your friendship meant a lot to me. When I knew that I had lost your and Merric's respect, it almost broke me. I thought I had already lost Kel and the loss of your camaraderie was a painful blow to an already painful situation. So thanks, for accepting me and giving me another chance when you had a perfectly good right to deny me."

Neal held out a hand. "Friends then?"

Joren grinned. "Friends." He gripped Neal's hand firmly. As he drew his arm back, he winced. His shoulder was still sore from a very hard fist. Suddenly, as if remembering his duty, Neal stepped forward, green fire gathering in his palm. Placing a cool hand on Joren's shoulder, he closed his eyes. Within in moments, the cool rivers of his Gift were streaming from his hand and spreading to encompass Joren's whole body. The pain that had been plaguing him faded to a numb and distant throbbing. Joren sighed in contentment. The absence of the nagging soreness was finally gone, at least for the moment.

Closing his eyes, he intended to get some rest. Seconds later, the door to the infirmary burst open again. Joren's eyes flew open as Merric came barreling down the aisle to stop along side Neal. Under his arm was a chess set and two books.

"I'm sorry." He blurted. "For everything, really. You were right, I was wrong. I shouldn't have hit you. You just made me so angry..." Merric paused for a moment to regain his thoughts. "I have no excuse. I apologize. Will you forgive me?"

Neal stared at him in astonishment. "Mithros, Mynoss, and Shakith! You'd think the man would show a little more remorse and a bit more tact."

Merric, flushed from his rush to the infirmary, reddened even more. Joren blinked twice, his head still spinning from the rapid spiel of words. Shaking his head to clear it, he answered slowly. "Yes, I forgive you, and yes I accept your apology."

Merric let out a gusty breath of air. "Oh good, now Kel won't kill me."

Neal let out a choked laugh and Joren gaped at him in surprise.

As soon as the words had left his mouth Merric flushed again and seemed to regret his quick response. "I mean...I'm glad your giving me another chance...I didn't mean...uh..."

Joren interrupted him, taking pity in his pathetic explanation. "I know what you meant. She's the devil to escape when you've made her angry."

Merric sighed in relief while Neal muttered under his breath. It sounded something like, 'That's an understatement.'  
"I've brought a peace offering. I figured you'd be bored stuck in bed and I heard about how you smashed Neal at chess. Since I'm not much of a chess player, I guessed you'd enjoy beating me in a round of games. And when you get bored thrashing the both of us, you could read." He paused as if trying to remember something. "Oh, and I also brought cards." With his free hand he dug into his pocket to pull out a deck and wave it triumphantly. "Anyone up for a game of poker?"

**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! First of all, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed and told me their thoughts on how to finish the story. It really helps me to see how my readers feel about what I should do. For the most part, I got a plea to continue with another subplot. Though I haven't yet decided, your thoughts are appreciated. Even if I wrap the story up in the next few chapters, I plan to start another story soon, so to all my fans, don't worry. You'll be seeing more of my work. For now, thanks again and continue to read and review! --Lupus17


	25. A Newfound Beginning

**Unexpected Love**

"**_We come to love not by_**

**_finding a perfect person, but_**

_**by learning to see an**_

_**imperfect person perfectly" **_

_**--Anonymous**_

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the original characters in this story. They all belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 25**

**A Newfound Beginning**

Kel found Neal and Merric crowded around Joren's bed an hour later. All three were holding a hand of cards and there was a small pile of coppers and a few scattered gold nobles in three piles of varying size. Joren had the most by far. He was sitting up, his back resting against the wall with his pillow propped behind him for support. Both Neal and Merric had pulled up chairs as close to the bed as possible. Joren's lap held a tray made for food that served as a makeshift table for the cards. As yet, the men had not seen her, all too focused on the game to register her presence by the door.

"Ha! I win. Straight flush!" Joren's smug voice carried easily in the empty infirmary.

"Ugh. Why do you always have the luck? I haven't won a hand in ages!" Merric's petulant tones were unmistakable. "It's not fair. You already smashed us in chess. Do you have to beat us at cards too?"

"A Stone Mountain never loses." Joren grinned to take the sting from his words. "I can't help it if I'm talented."

Neal grunted. "More luck than talent. Don't worry, you're due to run out of that soon. Then _I'll_ start winning all the money back."

Kel watched as they re-dealt the cards and began another round. Deciding it was time to let them know she was there, Kel walked over to Joren's cot.

At the sight of Kel walking toward them, all three knights exchanged guilty looks.

"Hello boys. I see you've followed my instructions to the letter. This is definitely what I had in mind when I said to tend to Joren. Gambling away your money is a noteworthy cause." Kel's voice stayed bland throughout the short speech, but her eyes gave her away. Under her oppressive stare all three men gave her sheepish smiles and shrugs. Joren's eyes fairly danced with wickedness.

"Why, this was Merric's idea. We just wanted to find a way to pass the time since I'm bedridden for a while. And like true friends, they've parted with their money for me."

Kel couldn't hide the smile that tugged at her mouth. "I'm sure that losing their money was what they had in mind. I can see from there cheerful faces that they're having fun."

Neal just groaned while Merric scowled and replied. "I think he's got some trick up his sleeve. No way a man could have such a wide streak of luck."

Kel laughed. Unconsciously, she'd been holding her breath when she'd come to check on her friends. But despite her worries that her comrades would be all stiff silences and hooded gazes, they were easy with each other. Somehow, in that strange way that men do, they'd come together as fast friends as if nothing had ever happened. Involuntarily, Kel's eyes met Joren's. His silver-blue ones seemed to fill with a love and intimacy that only they shared. Sensing the sudden romantic tension in the air, both Neal and Merric made hurried and pitiful excuses to leave, gathering up their meager winnings and the cards.

"Ah Kel, I just remembered that I promised Dom that I'd mend one of his shirts. I really should go. We'll finish this game later Joren." Neal's excuse was painfully obvious.

"Me too, Kel. I have to help Cook in the kitchens. He wanted my advice on this family recipe of beef stew I have. Uh yeah, I'll go now—" His excuse was cut off by Neal's hand over Merric's mouth.

"We're leaving. Have fun."

Neal's sentiment was echoed by Merric's muffled "Mmmph"

Their footsteps faded away and the sound of a door closing marked Neal's and Merric's exit. Complete silence hovered in the air.

Suddenly nervous, Kel tucked her hands behind her back. She knew that she loved Joren and that he loved her, but that didn't wipe away the abrupt awkwardness that permeated the air. Kel wet her lips and began to speak.

"Joren, I—"

Before she could finish her thought, Joren gripped her arm and tumbled her onto the bed, his impatience with her formal speech evident. His hands held her firmly against his body. They pressed chest to chest, hip to hip.

"Why must you make it so difficult?" He gazed into her eyes, a light amusement in them. Gently, he stroked her cheek.

"I don't." Suddenly shy, Kel ducked her head.

Joren chuckled quietly and tucked her head in the space between his shoulder and neck. "Yes you do. Everything with you has to be analyzed and thoroughly thought over. Doesn't it ever drive you mad?"

Kel was silent for a moment. Then, "No."

Joren blew out a disgusted breath. "Of course not. You wouldn't be the Protector of the Small otherwise, I guess."

Kel expressed her protest in the form of a pinch.  
"Hey! That hurt! How could you wound an injured man that can't protect himself? And one you love at that?"

Kel's laugh was muffled by his neck. "I hold no mercy when that title comes into play. You should know that by now."

Joren sighed softly, his breath warm against her shoulder. "I missed you."

Kel smiled. "I was only gone a few hours."

Joren's voice was solemn. "It felt like days."

Laughing, Kel pressed her lips to Joren's neck. "You didn't look so mournful when I came in to find you sitting up and playing a round of poker."

Joren's voice was unshakable. "I still missed you."

Sighing, Kel closed her eyes and relented. "I missed you too."

Lulled by Joren's steady breathing, Kel was soon drifting, content to be held by him. _This_ was love. Her hand fisted over his heart and his arms tightened around her, pulling her more fully against him. One hand stroked her hair.

A while later, Kel's peaceful doze was broken when Joren gently pulled her up.

When Kel had struggled back into a sitting position, she gave him a questioning smile.

"I just wanted to look at you." Joren too, was sitting up. The bed sheets had pooled at his hips leaving his leanly muscled chest bare. Firm ridges shaped his stomach, evidence of a well-honed body. His shoulders were broad, his hips narrow. Silky, white blond hair, which was more suited to a girl than a man, was tousled and tangled and fell to his shoulders. Joren's silvery-blue eyes studied her intently, as if trying to figure out some complex problem. He was beautiful.

Kel felt her cheeks flush at the sight of Joren's half-nakedness. She knew that he wore breeches beneath the sheets, but it didn't take away from the image of an exquisite god, untouchable and perfect. The dark bruises that had marred his body not so long before had all but disappeared due to Neal's thorough healing.

Joren's sharp gaze caught her blush. His hand firmly gripped her chin as he studied her face. "What is it?"

Kel shook her head quickly. "Nothing, it's nothing."

Joren could be stubborn too. "I know you're lying, Tell me."

Kel pressed her lips together firmly, then slowly relaxed. Hesitantly, she spoke. "It's just you. You're beautiful."

"Don't say that. You know I hate those kind of compliments."

Kel's reply was matter-of-fact. "It's not a compliment, it's a truth."

With trembling fingers, Kel traced the heavy muscles of his shoulders and chest, her touch feather-light. Joren groaned softly. As Kel continued to trace her way down the muscles of his torso, Joren's breath began to shudder between his lips. His body trembled lightly from her touch. Wonder filled Kel. _This_ was the power of a woman who was loved by a man. She, a lady knight who was no court beauty, could make Joren of Stone Mountain tremble at a simple touch.

When he could take her stroking no more, Joren grabbed her wrist. He was breathing heavily, his eyes a deep, icy blue. "You're teasing me."

Kel shook her head. "I just like to touch you. You're bea—"

Her words were muffled by his mouth as he leaned forward and kissed her fast and hard.

"No more "truths" as you call them. I don't think I could take it."

Kel pressed her suddenly swollen lips together. "I won't. But it doesn't change the fact that—"

Joren pulled her against him again, his lips seeking hers and finding them. This time it was minutes before he let her go.

Kel was now breathing heavily too. "Are you going to kiss me every time I try to say something? Because if you do, We'll never finish a conversation."

Joren grinned unabashedly at her. "But they would be pleasurable interruptions."

Kel fought the urge to grin foolishly back. "Yes, well, it would be very impractical, not matter how pleasurable they are. Even your kisses can't distract me enough to disregard my duties."

Joren's grin remained untroubled. "Who says you have to disregard your duties? Doesn't keeping your underlings in the pink of health fall under duties? You are my commanding officer, are you not?"

Kel bit her tongue to keep from laughing out loud. "I don't think kissing has anything to do with keeping you healthy. Elsewise, I'd be kissing every man woman and child in New Hope on a daily basis. I don't suppose you want me kissing Neal or Merric everyday now would you?. But I guess since it falls under my duties as a knight, it can't be helped. Maybe I'll make it a new event. In the mornings everyone must line up at my door and—"

Joren held up his hands in defeat, an annoyed and exasperated look on his face. "You win. I guess my little joke backfired on me. I don't want you to kiss anyone but me." He paused, then softer, a dark look of possession on his face, he continued. "You're mine." His tone brooked no argument.

Kel met and held his gaze. "And _you_ are mine. Forever."

_**Finis **_

**Author's Note: **

To all those readers who have just found and finished reading my story...I would love it if you would review even though I finished it...I love feedback on how much my readers liked it...thanks!

I'm sorry for the delay. I just kept going back and forth on how to end it. I know that most of you begged me to continue the story, but I felt that I just couldn't prolong it. Sorry to all who were hoping for a sequel or subplot. I tried to think of a subplot, but every time I came up with one, I couldn't see it fitting smoothly into the story. I've decided to end this one and start a new story with a whole new plot line. It will still be a Kel story but the male character will either be Dom, Joren, or someone else I have yet to think of. I'm leaning towards Dom. I've finished a Kel/Joren (successfully, I hope) and my fingers are itching to try a Kel/Dom. Please Please Please to all those Kel/Dom haters give me a chance to write one if that's what I choose. If you liked this one, then a Kel/Dom wouldn't be _too_ bad, right?? And if for some reason my Kel/Dom story falls flat and totally sucks. I'll go back to K/J. (Assuming its a K/D). Please give me a chance.

I would also like to give ALL my readers a huge THANK YOU. You've all been so awesome. When I started to write _Unexpected Love_, I agonized over the fact that it would be a complete failure and I would get no reviews or worse...flames..(shudders). I'm so glad that everyone loved the story and really enjoyed it. Everyone who gave me constructive criticism, thanks. You pointed out mistakes I missed. I really appreciated it. So don't give up on me. There may be a delay on putting out the first chapter of a new story, but I would love it if you would to continue to read my work. Thanks again. --Lupus17


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